


New York's Finest

by Lost__Lu



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Angst, Crime Fighting, Crossover, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Human Experimentation, Mystery, New York City, Organized Crime, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Superheroes, Team Up, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost__Lu/pseuds/Lost__Lu
Summary: Bizarre occurrences are unfolding all across New York. Such so that will intertwine the fates of two similar crime fighters from separate walks of life. One still recovering from shocking revelations sprung onto him. The other still resentfully adjusting to the world post-decimation. Alone they are lost, but perhaps together they can find themselves again while also finding a way to save their city.





	1. "Hello, New York. My Old Friend."

**Author's Note:**

> Set After the events of Daredevil Season 3 and Spider-Man Far From Home.

Already the cold of another inevitable winter was beginning to creep its way towards New York in the midst of September. The summers in this city never lasted long. Nor did the grasp of opportunity, it seemed. For up in the far end of the Bronx, yet another homeless shelter burned through all its funding and resources after the slew of new victims brought back from the tragic decimation five so years ago.

"People! People! Once again, we are sorry! This is an unfortunate circumstance for all of us! Please, our sister shelter in Bronxville still has room!" The head volunteer tried her best to calm the exiting disgruntled crowd. "To your left, you'll see a shuttle bus that will take you straight there! The city's relief effort could only afford to send us one! Please! Single file!"

"Well, shit. There goes Woodlawn Heights." A fellow homeless refugee shook his head at the cluster. "And up in Bronxville? They just keep pushing us further and further away from the city." He cupped his hand in front of his mouth to light a cigarette loosely dangling from his chapped lips. "Whatcha' say, Duchess? Should we wait in line for the bus? After all the drop offs, we should get there by what? Thanksgiving?"

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" The woman beside him stood taller, yet more visibly tired. Tired of all _this_.

"Cause you look like that chick from that Duchess movie. You know, the real skinny one. Just… darker."

"Well, for the last time, I'm not even British. My home country is nowhere near the U.K., or Europe for that matter."

"Eh, you all still got funny accents. And don't change the fact that you don't look like you belong here, Duchess." He puffed out the soothing smoke through his nostrils.

She rolled her eyes and looked to the crowd of others like them. "Half of us here don't."

"So… we taking our chances with the shuttle or what?"

"Why bother?" His friend sighed. "They'll just run out of room like the last two shelters."

They began walking away from the unfortunate mess. Scenes like this were becoming ever more common after the missing half of the populace had returned. People came back to a world that had moved on without them. The majority came back to nothing.

"Hey, maybe we can head down to one of Stark's old buildings." He bowed his head to perform the quick sign of the cross. "God bless that rich bastard's soul. Heard his wife was kick starting this huge salvation initiative for us. People affected by the Snap."

"We hear a lot of things, Harold. A lot of false promises. It's been months since we all came back and they're still scrambling. They don't know what the hell to do."

"They're trying."

"Well, it isn't enough." She huffed, irritably.

"Easy, Duchess. I'm just laying out our options here."

They proceeded to make their way down East 233rd Street. The tree leaves had already begun to wither away under this grim morning of bitter winds. Leftover trash littered the sidewalk. Left in utter disarray to be simply ignored just as the very homeless. Fortunate individuals casually walked about their daily lives as if nothing had ever happened, going out of their way to completely avert eyes with the poor pair.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm just tired and hungry. And this just isn't fair. Other people got to come home to their loving families. I came home to an expired work visa and a vacant startup because most of the employees disappeared."

"...they fed us trail mix before we left." Always one to find the silver lining, Harold was.

"Not a proper meal, Harold! Or the point."

"Listen, I know you're new to this whole _lifestyle_, but these are unprecedented times. I'm sure Immigration Services or whatever would make an exception."

"I can't take that risk. Not where I'm from. I'm lucky to have even been approved in the first place. I'm too scared to pop up on the radar now. Ugh, I should have just stayed gone."

"Don't you say that." He pointed at her, sternly, cigarette still in hand. "You and a whole lot of people are damn lucky to be walking this Earth again. You've got no clue what it was like without the rest of y'all."

His friend stayed quiet. Harold rarely became this serious.

"I've been through my fair share in this here city. Seen plenty of mob crimes, acts of police brutality, attacks both alien and otherwise. Even a few civil rights marches back in my youth that all went to shit. But nothing, and I mean **nothing** near as god awful as this. Not even close." He finished what little remained of his square.

The lost foreigner carried on in silence. She very much believed her friend, but it was difficult to comprehend the true nature of what occurred when she and half the population had been wiped clean off the face of the planet. Especially since Harold never bothered to elaborate on it. Perhaps it was far too painful for him.

The news hardly covered it either. They were too busy rejoicing over their "_Welcome Back!_" fluff pieces. The most they ever informed viewers, regarding the sensitive subject, was to remain patient while Congress hashed out new legislation to finally reinstate order and piece of mind to the nation. Just about the only negativity that came on the local broadcast was whatever that "_Masked Menace_" was up to. The volunteers at the various shelters always remained lip tight about the topic of the Snap as well. Perhaps she would get around to visiting a library to browse the internet for some first hand sources once she finally regained some stability in her currently dire adjustment period.

_What the hell happened while I was gone?_

"Lucia!"

A soft voice called out to her. It was but a boy, no older than seventeen. Yet another poor victim of the decimation. Returning home to an empty house in the suburbs, for his single mother could not bear to go on another day without her beloved son. If she had only held on another year longer, they would have been reunited.

"The boy never can get your name right, can he, _Duchess_?"

"Oh, shut up, Howard." She shot him a playful look. Grateful that their dramatic silence was over and done with. "Hi, Jake!"

The young man caught up to them. "Thought I'd lost you back there when they were kicking us all out."

"Why aren't you on the shuttle?" Lucia wondered.

"Because I've got something way better than another overcrowded holding shelter. Few weeks back this suit shows up, talking all this life-changing offer crap to some of the others. How he can get us out of this stink hole. That his employer's got jobs and a chain of condos lined up for us. Accommodate us back into society and all that. And it wouldn't cost us a thing! Just our," He threw up air quotes, "_undisclosed compliance._"

"Seriously, Jake?" She could not believe his naivety. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Doesn't matter what it means, because it's all-"

"I don't know, kid. I'm with Duchess on this one. Sounds like a hustle."

"That's the thing, man." The boy smiled confidently. "It's not."

A pristine black Escalade pulled up behind him. Out stepped another friend of theirs from their rough journey of shelter hoping.

"Ed!?" Lucia could not believe it.

"Whelan! You handsome son of a bitch!" Harold exclaimed happily as well.

They both rushed up to him. He was looking much cleaner than they were accustomed to with his freshly cut hair slicked back, and fancy new fitted threads. They hugged him and checked him out all over.

"So this is what you look like under all that filth?"

Edward laughed with his old buddy. "Yeah, people can't go around calling me '_Vermin'_ no more."

"I'll say!" Whelan was one of Harold's longest friends. In fact, the only friend to survive the Snap with him. Their own separate lives did not quite pan out so well for a multitude of reasons. Yet, even at their lowest point, least they had each other. "I was wondering where you'd scurried off to."

"Oh my god," Lucia laid her hands on the sides of his face. "You actually have nice cheekbones."

"Alight, enough. Stop it. You're embarrassing me."

"I mean…" Still amazed by the sight before her deep, hazel eyes. "God, what happened?"

"Everything that I said happened." Jake butted in.

"The boy's right." He glanced back at the ride. "Everything they promised is true. Harold, my brother, remember all those drug tests we did back in the 80's?"

"Man, do I." He reminisced fondly.

"Well this is just like that except instead of tossing us twenty bucks and a sandwich, it's much higher rewards, baby!" His already expressive hand gestures took on a mind of their own as he sold them on this dream. "The pad I'm staying at, I gotta tell ya, it is oh-so-sweet. Gorgeous view of the harbor, wide indoor gym downstairs, and already they're hooking me up with a job at the very same condo."

"Really? Job as a what?" Lucia was curious.

"A janitor. I'm still digging through trash, sure, but hey! Difference is now I'm getting paid nineteen an hour for it. I'll be making enough to buy my own groceries while the Big Man covers all the living expenses. Long as I still comply with the tests."

That was still the part that made her uneasy. "And what exactly are they testing, Ed?"

"Oh, you know, the usual medical advances in new sleeping pills. Muscle restoring supplements. Stuff for these old joints of mine." He slapped his knees. "Ton of other medication mumbo jumbo. Stuff soon to be available over the counter. And honestly, I'm happy to do it, you know, in the name of science."

Jake looked up at his still unconvinced friend.

"I'm telling you, it's a good deal."

"More like too good to be true. I don't know, guys."

"Normally, I'd be with you. But this is Whelan we're talking about." Harold had changed his perspective. "I've known this man for decades. Since he was **nineteen**. If he says jump, I wouldn't even ask how high. I'd just dive straight into that muthuhf-"

"Okay, yes. I know. I know. I hear you. And I want to buy into this too, believe me. No one wants to go back to their normal life more than me, but I just… there's gotta be a catch somewhere."

"I'm telling you, there isn't one. I'm standing right here in front of you. Better than ever. I'm living, breathing proof that this works for us. That this is our way out. I mean, how many other opportunities like this come along?"

"That's the thing. They don't."

"Lucia, baby…"

She looked to her dear friend, Harold. He had that serious look on him again.

"...what other choice do we got at this point?"

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. They were running out of places to stay. For the ones who returned to little to nothing at all, society was still in shambles. Aid was not progressing fast enough. They were struggling to survive day to day. Maybe this was the way. Maybe miracles did come around every once and a while as a tough old nun used to always try to instill in her. A nun whose convent accepted her when she was but a lone teen, starting over in a foreign city. Least... that was how she remembered it.

"Fine." She agreed reluctantly.

"Great, because they said the more the merrier." Jake gleefully hopped over to the mysterious Escalade.

"I'm telling ya. Our lives... are about to change forever." Edward opened the door for them, chivalrously entering last. Poor Whelan had no idea how horribly right his last statement would truly be, for there was always a catch in this town.

"Sheesh, Whelan!" A strong, gravelly voice sounded out from the shadows of the backseat. "When's the last time your pals had a proper shower?" From the voice alone, they gathered that it bellowed from a large build. The bulked silhouette then made that fact. The only other details they could identify in the darkness were the fancy twinkles that reflected off the gold rings on his kielbasa sized fingers, and the shine off the plated teeth from his shark-like grin. "Well, no matter." His Italian, Brooklyn accent coming off heavier than his mass. "You fellas have just stepped into the big leagues…"


	2. Second Time Around

"May, no. I change my mind. I really don't think this is such a good idea." A familiar prepubescent voice pleaded out.

"Peter, how many times must we go over this? It'll be fine."

"See, actually, it won't. It'll not be fine, because now everything's gonna be different. Because of what happened over the summer."

His aunt May pulled the SUV around to the side of Peter's school, shifted the gear into park, and set her arm behind his seat to face him, eye to eye.

"You mean to tell me you can jump headfirst into gunfire, alien battles, and face off against theatrical super villains. But you're too scared to go back to school?"

"The secret's out, May!" He spazzed out.

"Mrs. Potts has it all under control!"

"Okay, so she filed this huge lawsuit against the Bugle, but-"

"For defamation and endangerment of a minor, **yes**. Jameson still refuses to pull the video from the site, but it's only a matter of time. And we were lucky that Happy relocated us right away. Before all the paparazzi and crazies started swarming our apartment. Who knows what would have happened if we'd stayed."

"The new place _is_ nice. Roomier than we're used to-"

"Don't forget all the undercover security. Twenty-four, seven."

"No, course not." Peter was beginning to ease down.

"So what are you still worried about, buddy? Careful steps have been taken. We even marched down to the station with Mrs. Potts' legal team as her publicist advised. Openly and publicly, because **_Peter Parker_** has nothing to hide."

Parker recalled the trip. A smart preemptive move on their part before the authorities did something rash, or so he was told. Pepper had even accompanied them.

All the flashes and chatter from the cameras and reporters then began to flood his mind. This chaotic noise that had awaited them outside the precinct. The anxiety hit him worse than the abrasive interrogation within the walls. From the officers to the journalists, they all had questions, and Peter had a list of answers of which he memorized on the ride there. Though he stuck to the cards and had his aunt and Pepper's support behind him on that stage, he still came off frighteningly nervous with his deathly pale skin under the coat of sweat that glistened at the shot of every single camera flare. The microphones themselves struggled to carry his shaky voice across the gathered crowd.

"M-my name is Peter Parker… and… and I am **_not_** Spider-Man."

He still had yet to conquer the enemy of stage fright that plagued many of his age. Though, he was informed it worked out in their favor. A scared young boy trembling before the masses could not truly be New York's villainous arachnid.

What further helped this public image of innocence: on his way down from the podium, he even missed a step, fumbling over not at all gracefully. The sole thing that saved him from the hard, embarrassing impact was an officer from the security lineup.

"You're good, kid." She told him upon the swift catch.

She looked young, fresh out of the academy; still hopeful and eager to do good as opposed to the more hardened old-timers on the force.

Before Peter could utter thanks- "**Watanabe!**" A superior officer scolded the rookie. "Back in line!"

From there, the boy and his accompanying team made haste through the congregation of verbal incoherence and blinding lights. Flash after flash after flash, question after question, the boy lost himself in the media void. That day alone, it all went by so fast he hardly remembered what else he said under the spotlight. But there was plenty of news coverage to remind Peter Parker of the mess he was in.

"Peter?"

"What? Yeah, no. Sorry." He snapped back to reality, to the safety of isolation with his aunt in the SUV. Though he knew that once he stepped out, the deafening noise would begin again within the school.

"Like I was saying, we fully complied." May continued. "The video proved inconclusive. There was no solid evidence to charge you with, or even a person to press the charges. Beck had no living family. The police won't come bothering you here."

"No, but that video still went viral. Everyone at school will still be talking about it." He began fidgeting about with his new burner phone Happy had him get." Everything blew up after the leak. My old phone, emails, my socials. Haven't even been able to message Ned or MJ since."

"I'm sorry, Peter…" She laid her hand on his troubled head, truly sympathizing with him. They were in this together after all.

"But that rumor talk isn't the biggest thing on my mind."

"Then what is?" Her voice was as soft as it was concerned.

"The Bugle alone managed to turn the whole city against Spider-Man."

"Not _all_ of them." His aunt tried reassuring him.

"Well feels like it. Whenever I'm out there…" His tone dropped ever so saddened. "People just aren't the same around me… the neighborhood isn't so _friendly_ no more."

She brushed away the loose strands of his hair. "You'll gain their trust back. And you're not alone. You'll continue to have all our support every step of the way."

The worried boy stared out the passenger window, right onto his school of science.

"You have friends waiting for you in there too."

Peter knew she was right, but all he really wanted at the moment was to simply escape this conversation.

"You done freaking out?" She asked with her sly dimpled smile.

Her sweet nephew looked back at her and nodded. "Thanks, May." He spoke softly, gathering his things.

"Any time. Now, get out of my car. I'm late for my meeting at the shelter."

He hurried awkwardly, but got himself out of the vehicle.

May rolled down the window for final words as she drove off. "I larb you! Don't let the rumors get to you! And don't cut class!"

It almost brought a smile to his gloomy face, but Peter kept on walking. Moving forward was the only option left for him in this whole made-public disaster.

* * *

Sure enough, right around the corner, a handful of news pests were waiting for him outside the main entrance. Peter flung his hoodie up and tried to sneak by.

"Spider-Man! Spider-Man! Over here!"

"What are you doing to clear your name!?"

"Are you not worried to bring danger into your very school?"

The boy murmured a reply, but more so to himself, "Leave me alone. _Please_."

Thankfully the school guards rushed out with Principal Morita. Such increased personnel was never in place before, along with metal detectors or anything of that sort, but this year security was deemed a necessary expense due to the drama hovering over the young boy from Queens.

"Get inside, Parker." He instructed. Once safely within the confines of the institute, the head of the school turned his attention back to the intrusive crew. "Off the premises! You are blocking the entrance. You cannot be here. You are harassing my students!"

"You heard him, move it!" A robust guard chimed on.

Peter was clear for now, or so he thought. After removing his hood, barely two steps in, he was met with well over a hundred eyes staring him down. It was as if his classmates were waiting for him.

"Umm…" Caught in the spotlight once again, he froze, for what could he possibly say? They said nothing either, but their silence echoed loud.

At last, shoving himself through to the front was his best friend, Ned.

"Peter!"

"Ned, thank god!"

They instinctively greeted each other, arms out.

"Come on." He guided him through the main hall.

Students stepped aside, but their eyes never ceased track, not for a beat. Along the way the whispers inevitably began.

_"Can he really be Spider-Man?"_

_"No way he's Spider-Man."_

_"Parker's Spider-Man?"_

_"Remember him ditching Liz's party?"_

_"Ditching Liz at Homecoming."_

_"Her dad was the Vulture. Her boyfriend, Spider-Man?"_

_"And Washington finals."_

_"That was Spider-Man all over Europe."_

_"It all makes sense."_

_"He killed a guy?"_

_"Think he had anything to do with the Avengers?"_

_"Why not? He killed one superhero."_

_"Could it really be…"_

_"Spider-Man?"_

_"Spider-Man,"_

_"**Spider-Man.**"_

_"**SPIDER-MAN!**"_

Or was it all in his head?

"**I'm not Spider-Man!**" Peter erupted out in frustration. Only to meet the exact same deafeningly silent gaze of endless eyes.

"Damn right he's not Spider-Man," Left to none other than Flash Thompson himself to break the silence. "I know my Spider-Man. He's no killer. He saved me up on that monument. And again when we were being attacked by Mysterio's magic drones. And I know for a fact that this loser," Pointing dead at the victim of interest as he strutted right up to him. "Penis Parker, is _not_ Spider-Man. Not _**my**_ Spider-Man."

The hairs on the back of Peter's neck spiked up. Something was coming, but all eyes were on them.

"Because if he was…"

_Here it comes_. He braced himself.

"He'd easily be able to dodge THIS!"

A sharp shriek of pain escaped poor Parker immediately following a strong, solid knee to the groin that dropped him dead to the floor in a fetal position. No one laughed, but faint mummers now filled the awful silence. Hopefully this would also kill enough suspicion of him being Spider-Man, and not just his pride.

"What the hell, Flash!?" Ned quickly bent down to Peter's aid.

"That's for punching me on the bus, dick." He completely ignored the helping friend, and marched off proudly.

_This is going to be the worst year ever_. Peter thought to himself while choosing to stay on the floor, desperately hoping to hide from it all.

The first bell sounded off.

"You are all late to first period!" Principal Morita returned. "Get a move on, now! Before I start handing out detentions." The students dispersed into various directions, clearing the line of sight to Peter and Ned. "Parker, what happened?" He helped the boy up, noticing tears in his eyes.

They were not from the physical pain. "Nothing, I'm okay." Peter stood stably enough on his own.

"You sure? You can come talk to me in my office."

"No, really. It's fine. I need to get to class anyway." He reiterated ever so weakly.

"Well... if you need anything, my door is always open." Before they fully left his peripheral, "And Parker!"

The boys both turned around to listen to what their principal had to say.

"Everything that's happening to you right now. It'll pass. Just hang in there." Morita came from a family of veterans, not just his grandfather. He knew with all his heart and intuition that Peter Parker was no murderer.

His student nodded in gratitude. The pulses of pain slowly leaving his center. Principal Morita exited the hall at last.

"It won't pass." Ned blurted out.

"Shut up," He replied, already tired and wanted the day to be over.

After making their way up the stairs, the best friends met Michelle Jones, standing right there by the windowsill, waiting. Waiting for him. For Peter.

"MJ," the crack of a smile blessed his depressed face.

She smiled back with an innocent wave. "I um… haven't heard from you since the joy ride."

The couple stood feet apart. The morning sun shining through warmly. Peter almost forgot how pretty she was without having to try. She merely stood in place, hands folded before her, sun highlighting her naturally brunette curls.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I couldn't. With everything that suddenly happened, I-"

"I know. I get it. I just… I missed you." She finished shyly.

Peter's smile grew. "I missed you too."

They waited for a few awkward moments, ensuring that no stragglers would pass by. The staircase was clear, for all other students were seated in class by now. The two then jumped right into a tight, long embrace with one another. Ned stood aside, so genuinely happy for them. The adorable high school couple then began to kiss. Now Ned felt extremely uncomfortable, not knowing what to say or even do with his hands.

When Peter and Michelle finally peeled away, she asked. "So what are we gonna do?"

"We?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, you're not alone here. This affects us too." Ned answered. "Are the cops looking for you?"

"No, he got that sorted three weeks ago. That PR stunt in front of the station? Nice call."

"Wasn't mine. It was all Mrs. Potts."

"Wait, but doesn't associating yourself with her link you to Iron Man?"

"Well, no because turns out the Stark Internship was a legit thing." Peter told Ned.

"It's true." Michelle added, "There's a paper trail. Actual students applied and got to work at Stark facilities for the hands on learning experience. Peter was the only one off being Spider-Man instead, but he's still in the records. There's even an alibi to why he was in Berlin. That was the date and place of the interview that first got him hired. Stark Industries flew him out and everything. It's all legitimate. From the very beginning, Tony made it official to cover him in case someone started asking questions, or, you know, something bad like _this_ happened. He was smart."

"The smartest," Peter uttered mournfully.

"And he actively gave out billions in scholarship money to students everywhere. Not to mention funding varies college projects of science and technology like the lucky undergrads at MIT. Tony did a lot of good for kids like us. So to come after one of his own, it's slander against the company. Potts, as the CEO, has every reason to be involved. Plus, Stark Industries provides excellent benefits for its employees such as legal, not just medical and dental, which extends to its valued interns as well."

"Wow," is all Ned could say at Michelle's vastness of effortless knowledge.

"Yeah, wow, how do you know all this?" Peter asked, impressed.

"I've… been observing your case very closely, because…" She swayed a bit. "It's my job to worry about you since I'm still your girlfriend."

"Aww," he let out happily.

"I am still your girlfriend, right?" She timidly asked.

"Of course you are," Peter reassured her, gripping her hand, lovingly.

"So then… while this whole legal battle is going on to defend Peter, what about Spidey?" Ned questioned with concern. "Can't you reach out to Fury to put in a good word for you?"

"The world still thinks Fury's dead with the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. Besides, I've tried. He hasn't answered any of my calls. Happy thinks he might be off world or on another super secret spy mission."

"What about the Avengers?" He followed up. "Have someone dress up in your suit and stand next to you."

"The Avengers are gone, Ned…" Peter informed somberly. "The ones left, a lot of em went off into space. Black Panther is busy running his country. Strange? Forget about it. And who knows where the rest of em are. It's not like we all exactly keep in touch."

"Then… what are you gonna do?" his best friend wondered.

"Try to lay low, I guess. Least that's what May wants."

"But you don't think so?" Michelle could already tell.

"Every little thing that happens out there now, the Bugle and that Jonah guy somehow find a way to spin it around and blame me for it. Peter Parker has to lay low and out of trouble, but _Spider-Man_… he has to stay out there and clear his name by doing some good."

* * *

Flocks of Seagulls flew over East River on the same breezy morning, squawking passed New York's most renowned super prison. Within the massive halls of Ryker's Island Maximum Security Penitentiary, lawyer Benjamin Donovan stepped on through as if it were his very own home. A significant ninety percent of his career was spent visiting clients during their incarceration, so this familiarity was of no surprise. He knew the ins and outs like routine clockwork.

"Good afternoon, Daniels." He greeted with a handsome smile as he approached the guard just outside his destined sector. His custom tailored suit just as fly and pressed as always. "Did you and your family enjoy the luxurious vacation to the Galápagos?"

"Oh, yes, mister Donovan. Very much so. My wife and I, we've never been farther than Jersey."

"That's refreshing to hear." He presented his visitors pass.

As the officer led him through the checkpoints, "Please, make sure to give the big guy my thanks."

"Officer, please."Politely raised a hand forth to stop him. "My client takes care of his own."

They made it to the private holding cell where another prison guard was stationed before the gate.

"Officer Bricker, good morning! I heard your niece got accepted into NYU."

"All thanks to your glowing letter of recommendation." He stated, gratefully, hands comfortably on his belt.

"The least I can do for gracing us with these private sessions."

"I do what I can for you and your client, mister." Bricker said humbly. "Oh and today I can only grant you five minutes before the next shift rotates in."

Donovan understood and conformed. "That's plenty, Bricker. And, again, congratulations to your niece."

Both security guards gave their final thanks before letting the big time lawyer in and returning to their separate posts. Elsewhere, in the designated control room, two other officers looked at each other before cutting off the audio receivers within the cell room for those five minutes of unrecorded privacy.

Despite the city's outrage over Fisk's hands in the FBI six or so years ago, the public's anger and concern had turned towards far greater threats since then.

People, especially in today's age, inevitably move on from such controversies, but their greed never fades. In the end, everyone had a price, and Wilson Fisk always found a way to find and exploit it. Someone, no matter their rank, always needed something outside their reach. The Kingpin just happened to always be able to supply that need.

"Good morning, Donovan." There he stood, staring at the blankness of a white wall, hands folded behind his tall, broadened stature. "What news do you bring me today?"

His deep, reserved tone of voice was always so careful yet, in a way, exasperated. Every breath carried all the weight of his burdens and his rage. Hence why all under his employ were always so cautious when responding to him. The monster could snap at any given moment.

"All is moving along swimmingly. The perfectly legal business practices of our allies overseas is funneling in enough revenue to keep your stay here as comfortable as can be. In no time, I suspect we'll have the warden in your pocket as well." The trusted lawyer placed his briefcase on the stainless steel table. "As for our new partner here in the city, quite the entrepreneur that one, he is discretely upholding his end of the deal. In fact he wanted me to promptly deliver these blueprints."

Fisk turned to the files neatly displayed before him across the countertop. "Still in the pre-development stages?" He seemed displeased.

"Well, yes." The man deemed it wise to tread carefully. "Their previous test runs have continued to prove… fatally miscalculated. But not to worry. I'm informed that all the necessary preparations are in order for phase two."

"Our partner needs to speed up the process." His intense eyes remained focused on the details of the documents. "I want satisfactory results by the end of the week."

"Of course, Mr. Fisk."

Upon a deep inhale, "I've lost enough time in my… _absence_." He made his way back to the white wall.

For officially, a good seven years had passed since his return to prison. For Fisk, it had barely been two. The Kingpin was yet another victim of the world's sudden decimation.

"Understood. And, sir, if I may?" Donovan began collecting the files in their proper folders. "Why not start reinvesting in your old territories? Your presence has been sorely missed in New York's underbelly. The city's still in shambles after the other half of the population's return. There's no better time to jump back into business. The market now is even more fertile than it was after _The Incident_."

"Because there's no need, Donovan." Fisk faced him, providing all his respect and attention. "Our new partner and his capable assets are doing well enough on that front. They shall continue to look after my city and all it's underground opportunity till my project is fully realized. Why exhaust the money and resources on something when I can simply _**take**_ it all back upon my freedom from this cage?"

"Clever man, Mr. Fisk. As always."

"Besides!" The Kingpin of Crime paced about at his leisure. "Nearly all of the inmates here were at some point in time under my employ. After we get the warden, the rest of the prison staff will quickly follow. Conducting business locally would only draw unwanted attention. I have all I need right here on this lone island."

"Sounds perfect. Well, if there's nothing else you seek from me, I'll run along to pass the urgent message to our partner."

"No. That is all, Donovan. Thank you for your loyal services."

"Pleasure." The lawyer stated with a humble nod. He then tucked in the last file upon his departure. The classified header read,

> "_Project Renaissance__._"

Once Fisk was left alone in the bleakness of his cell room, he uttered one thing to himself as he gazed into the white abyss. "Never again, Vanessa… never again." The only thing that truly mattered to him. Especially now more than ever before.


	3. Along Came a Spider

The sun set over New York, engulfing the sky in a golden orange. Lovely sights such as this were the only moments of bliss Peter was able to enjoy in these hectic times. The troubled boy rested at the very top of the Rockefeller Center, away from all the joyous shoppers and tourists below. Then the chilling breeze reminded him of the fast approaching winter. With it would come the long nights. Nights for escape.

Already in his suit, mask held on his lap, the fading warmth of the sun reflected off his tired eyes. The first day of school was not only dreadfully long, but did not improve one bit since the morning. He was out the doors before the final bell even rang. The serene hue then reflected off his glossy lenses for now a young hero stood tall and eager for patrol.

"Karen, you there?"

All systems zoomed into place before his very gaze, including the audio levels of an old friend.

"Hello, Peter. It's been a while. How have you been?" Asked the gentle voice.

"Ugh, where do I even begin?"

He back flipped off the edge, free falling straight towards the ice rink between the two roof garden buildings. Spinning out two lines of webbing to the sides of each, he effortlessly used his body weight to slingshot himself farther into the distance. This all came as second nature now. The youngster had been swinging through this urban jungle for a solid three years, building technique and confidence the more he ventured out from Queens.

"That is awful, Peter." After having received the rundown of unfortunate events that transpired in the past few months. "The last visual I recall from my data bank was you clinging onto the alien ship before the increased atmospheric pressure disconnected us. Is there anything I can do for you now that you've reinstalled me?"

He zipped passed heavy traffic on 8th Avenue. "Not unless you can erase that video like it never happened."

"That, I'm afraid, is out of my power. But perhaps I can pull the video from the web, preventing it from circulating any further."

"Really?"

"Yes. All I need is access to the original source."

"Like, where it was first uploaded?"

"Correct. From there, I can work my way to deleting all proceeding downloads, copies, and reposts that branched out. A domino effect. Similar to how large film companies strike down leaked trailers. That's _almost_ as if it never happened."

"You're the best, Karen." Hope returned in his cheery voice. "To the Bugle it is!" A flock of pigeons fluttered away as he point launched off the corner of a church tower. "Uh… where is the Bugle actually?"

"They livestream their podcast from a moderate office space at this location." A holo-map formed on the bottom left corner of his HUD. "Start heading to Verdi Square."

"Okay, copy that."

The departed sun had officially welcomed forth nightfall. Iridescent city lights now filled the Web Slinger's panoramic view.

"I know it's way too late, but if this'll finally get the video to stop replaying all across Time Square every morning, that'd be great."

"Well, the good news is 'Spider-Man' has fallen off of the top trending searches as of five days ago."

"That's… something. So what took the number one spot?"

"Hashtag Masked Menace."

"Ugh, that flippin' Jonah."

"Peter!" Karen shouted with alarm.

"What!? I didn't even-"

"No. **Look**." A blinking red marker appeared elsewhere on the holo-map. "An assault in progress." She alerted.

"Oh... _**Oh!**_" The boy changed course, running along the glass of a financial building. "With any luck, the boys in blue will get there just in time to see me stopping the crime."

"Yes. Start proactively changing the public's perception of you. Acts of goodwill to prove you're not the murderer the media is depicting you as."

"I'm saying."

* * *

In the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen, a terrified Maggia Enforcer fled to the shadows of a trashy alleyway, only to meet a dead end. His bloodied hands slid across the brick, graffitied surface in a desperate attempt to escape. Cursing frantically, he then screamed at the sudden splashing thud behind him. Back against the wall, the criminal cowered in horror at the figure looming over him.

Standing ominously in the darkness of night, the silent hunter shot forth a hand. Upon a sharp gasp, the criminal's throat was now ensnared in the forceful grip of leather and steel drenched in the blood of its victims.

A calm yet intimidatingly stern voice spoke. "You know what I'm going to ask."

The terrified thug trembled. "Y-you can't send me back. Was let out f-for overcrowding. Whole bunch of us were. I'll just be right back out on the streets in t-time for the Late Show."

Horns emerged from the shadows, revealing the Devil of this crime-ridden city. "Then I'll make sure you have a nice, long stay at Metro General instead."

What followed was the snap of bone and a shriek of agony that echoed across entire city blocks.

"The Maggia are spreading into boroughs that were never theirs. Why?" The vigilante kept his same chillingly reserved tone.

"We was all snapped back." He held onto his freshly broken arm. "Need to spread our legs."

His tooth then dribbled onto the cracked pavement after a solid strike.

"This isn't about territory. You don't stay for long. It's coordinated. You're after something."

"Beat me all you want, it's n-"

Several more teeth were savagely lost.

"You're running out of teeth. Thankfully, you still have plenty of bones. And I've got all night."

He spat out a grotesque amount of blood, further staining his grey slacks. "It ain't…" and panted painfully, "it ain't nothing compared to what the _Big Man_ will do to me if I snitch to _you_."

"Who's this _Big Man_?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The hunter simply adjusted his newly reinforced gauntlets with a devilish grin that could light up the night.

"Approaching," Karen informed.

Peter swung high into the air for a clear satellite view of the scene. His high tech lenses zoomed in, focusing on the assailant. To the naive young boy, all he witnessed was a dark figure mercilessly beating on a man in a white dress shirt and black tie. A white collar citizen yanked on his way back from work for all he knew.

"Got em in my sights!"

The Spider dived into the crime in progress, landing silently onto the ledge of a rooftop that outlined the alley in order to maintain a safe distance.

"Who the hell is this guy?" He whispered to himself as he crawled along down the side.

The aggressor looked to be fully armored. This was no average street mugger. Parker was cautious before jumping in, for he could very well be enhanced. The youngster chose to rely on his artificially intelligent companion for analysis.

"Scanning…" The violent figure was highlighted. "Target is equipped with custom body armor and twin batons." Each item was broken down into detailed segments as identified: Near indestructible helmet of a carbon based nano-tube alloy; thick Polymer composite guards on the knees and shoulders; a thin, flexible kevlar-protium mesh that protected the rest of the body, interwoven behind specially hardened leather; boots and gauntlets were reinforced in an advanced carbon fiber coat with steel tipped knuckles; and his strengthened attachable weapons possessed hidden grappling hooks, connecting to a steel fiber composite cable within, capable of extending great lengths. All top of the line S.H.I.E.L.D. quality.

"Body signature showing no signs of augmented strength or other enhanced capabilities."

"Awesome. Then looks like I'm all clear to kick some-"

Suddenly, the man stopped his assault and stood silent. The pause was eerie. Then… after a slight tilt of his head, he flung out both his weapons, bursting the only sources of light in this alleyway.

"Whoah, whoah! Karen, I need a visual." Peter was completely blind in the dark, though not for long.

"Switching to infrared."

The setting reconfigured, but the man had vanished.

"What the- where'd he go?" The boy hopped onto the nearby fire escape. Hands on the railing, he looked all over the ground and walls to no avail. Then his sixth sense kicked in.

"_Oh god__,_"

His eyes widened as they darted up. Right above him was the missing figure, so dangerously close and flaring red with flowing heat that the signature was too much for him to process. Before he could even tell Karen to change the setting, the burning silhouette used the railing for momentum to flip-kick the boy square in the chest.

"Agh!" The hit teenager bounced off the iron bars of the window, plummeting onto the paved alley below.

"Someone doesn't skip leg day." He picked himself up with a groan.

The man was already on the ground behind him, without ever having made a sound.

"Could you like maybe?" Peter requested.

His visuals switched over to a softer filter.

"Done." She declared.

Parker turned around, "Thanks," noticing that the enemy already had his batons readied in hand. "And what happened to being non-enhanced?"

"Nothing abnormal came up in the readings. He is simply physically fit to an impressive degree."

"Like Captain America?" A kick like that sure reminded him of Leipzig.

"Debatable."

"Well, he's clearly a teleporter or something too."

There stood the boy… face to face with the Devil himself.

"Hey! You teleport or what!?"

No response was given.

"Okayyy. Strong, silent type. Well… Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to **drop** the chop sticks!"

The mysterious man continued to stand in place, feet away, in intense silence. Almost as if he too was observing, collecting his own readings.

Over at the dead end, the bloodied victim attempted to crawl away while the two were distracted with one another. But nothing went unnoticed when it came to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He fastballed one of his billy clubs at the escaping enforcer. At the sound of a scared scream, it bounced off the dumpster directly in front of him, purposefully missing his jaw by a hair. A warning not to try that again.

"No, no." Peter reacted, shooting out a thin line of webbing at the attacker. "Leave the poor bystander alone. It's me time right now."

He effortlessly blocked the incoming shot with his other club and spun over to catch his returning weapon. Immediately upon retrieval, he threw it at the slim nuisance.

"Strike one!" The Arachnid dropped his line to perform a webster side flip, evading the incoming projectile.

But this Devil had learned plenty in his many years of fighting crime in this city, even from his very enemies. He simply smirked as his club ricocheted off the corner of the wall, bashing the back of the young acrobat's skull mid-flip.

"Concussion detected."

"Gee, you don't say." The boy groaned off after face planting.

"Sarcasm will not help you in this fight, Peter Parker." She said with a mother's tone.

"You're right…" He slapped his hands against the asphalt.

Once again, the weapon had returned home to its rightful owner after springing off of several other surfaces in the vicinity.

"He's full of surprises. Can't take any more chances." The try-hard hero kicked himself back up to a fighting stance. _Owe, too fast_. The sudden whip only increased his pulsing headache. Parker winced, but toughened through to focus on the objective at hand.

"Hey, horny! Neat trick. My turn. **Web grenaaade**!" He leapt back to pitch a formed ball.

Already moving in, the attacker batted it away. The bouncy orb made contact with the loading deck gate beside him, exploding into a sticky mess. Some of which caught onto his helmet and shoulder guard.

"Not gonna let him get too close." The jumpy Spider strategized, landing on the surface of the tagged wall.

"Smart." Karen agreed with his tactic.

Leaping off, the boy rained down a bombardment of more webbing. All of which the target somehow managed to steer clear of.

"Wow, he can really move. Cool ninja like reflexes, dude!"

He decided to use his slingshot maneuver once more tonight. This time directly into the nearly untouchable assailant.

"Yes! He doesn't have enough time to turn around and evade you." She encouraged.

Little did they know, their opponent did not need to turn to sense the incoming danger. He merely kickflipped off the same wall, right over the Web Slinger.

Parker crashed his feet straight into the brick, crumbling the outer layer.

"_**Agh**_, don't tell me he's got a special tingle too."

Upon a quick recovery, he whipped around only to meet a pair of beaming red eyes through his unique night vision. Trailing streams of neon fire followed them as the horned figure dashed into frame.

The startled young one was reunited with the trashing of modified batons. His enemy was skilled in close-quarters combat, Peter was not. Even with his superhuman agility, most of the attacks made harsh impact. He had to regain some distance before another heavy blow was dealt.

"Ah-owe, okay! Definitely not." He managed to grab hold of an elbow strike, "You have any idea how much those hurt?" and launched him far out across the alleyway with a great exertion of strength.

Finally being thrown off his game, the skilled aggressor collided against the dumpster, leaving a major dent in the heavily gauged steel. That one slip up was all it took to bring this encounter to a close.

"Least he's not invulnerable."

Peter lunged himself onto the fire escape above his fallen foe, gluing two lines of webbing onto his boots in order to pull him into the air.

"How about we wrap this up?" He chuckled at his own terrible pun. "Can't believe it took me this long to finally use that one."

In no time the captured criminal was encased in a thick cocoon, left dangling from the very fire escape with only his strained head poking out.

Sirens from the far distance now approached.

The victorious hero swung over to help the bruised and bloodied man to his feet.

"Thanks a million, Spider-Man."

"Yeah, no worries. I got you."

"Don't care what the Bugle says about you. You're a lifesaver." The victim began coughing more blood.

"Easy. Try not to talk too much. The paramedics will be here soon."

The sirens got ever closer, both from ambulances and police alike.

"Uh, yeah… thank the almighty. Hey, you know what? You should really book it, before they get here."

"What? But I want to make sure you-"

The seemingly well meaning citizen leaned off from the young hero. "I'll be alright. But you? I don't know how they'll react to you. Best you don't risk it."

"Um…"

"He has a point." Karen added. "You are reported as highly dangerous amongst all police channels. Maybe just leave your usual calling card."

"I guess you're right." He disappointingly agreed.

"Hey," The grateful man patted the superhero's back, "I'll make sure to put in a good word for yuh. Let them know what really happened."

"Thanks, man." He saluted the gentleman farewell. "Just relax until they arrive. They'll take care of you."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Sure thing."

The gullible Spider returned to his successful catch to leave the note.

"And for you, my scary, demon buddy…"

For the first time throughout their entire showdown, the masked man finally spoke, and spoke in a low, severely aggravated tone. "You've just made the stupidest mistake of your life, kid."

"What do you know!" The naive boy exclaimed. "He speaks!"

He then pinned his note reading, "_Courtesy of Your Totally Friendly Neighborhood (Definitely Not a Murderer) Spider-Man,_" directly onto one of his horns.

"Just hang tight, Devil-Man. The police will deal with you." The annoying boy playfully pinched the vigilante's cheek before swinging away into the night sky.

Shortly after, the first responders arrived to no sign of the Spider… nor any assaulted victim. The flashing lights of their sirens and headers illuminated the trashy alleyway once again. All that remained in the scene of the supposed crime was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen dangling in a rage.

As the police officers approached him, hands on their pistols, he grimly uttered one word to himself and one word only. A name of which he had overheard from a female voice that communicated with the Wall Crawler. Normally, no one else would have been able to detect the personalized A.I., but the Devil, here, heard all.

"**_Peter Parker…_**"


	4. Desperate Measures

The youthful Web Slinger arrived to his initially planned destination post-win. He crawled along the building's side, only to peer through the stained window glass into a completely vacant office space.

"Shouldn't there still be like… equipment here?"

"Yes," Karen agreed. "This misfortune is most sudden. Tapping into the nearest Wi-Fi signal to search the latest news."

Peter dropped onto a lamppost just outside a local café. Wandering bystanders already sped off at the mere sight of the "_Menace_."

"Come on, guys," he threw his hands in the air, "Seriously?"

"Yo Parker!" A random New Yorker shouted from behind.

"_What_?" The gullible boy turned to the call, meeting the bright flash of a cell phone camera.

"Ha! Yuh looked!"

"Gah! Dammit…," his disappointed head hung low.

"Everyone! He really is Peter Parker!" The pedestrian continued to yell obnoxiously as he walked away. "Thanks for the snap, freak! I'll be sure to tag the Bugle!"

Another concerned citizen voiced her opinion and did so loudly, "Jameson knew you'd come for him! Just get out. Get out of our city!"

Soon more joined the fold.

"You're no Avenger!"

"I'm calling 911!"

"Cape Killer!"

Uncomfortable with all the negative attention, the Wall Crawler failed to conceive of any other course of action, except to flee the scene.

"I'm sorry, Peter. But there's only more bad news," Karen informed saddenedly.

A video highlight of Jameson's latest podcast began to play in the upper right-hand corner of his HUD. Spider-Man landed on a rusted water tower to take it all in.

"Folks, as you may already know… I'm currently being sued, or should I say **attacked** by Stark Industries' very own Virginia Potts. Accusing the Bugle of spreading lies. Slander! My fellow listeners know that here at the humble Bugle we spread nothing but the hard hitting facts! **Facts** that are at times too much for some people to accept. I understand that, but it does not change the truth of the matter. And it definitely does **not** give gigantic conglomerates the right to silence said **truth**."

"You've gotta be kidding me with this guy," Peter muttered to himself as he expanded the video to full view.

"I know who you are, _Potts_." Pixelated images then appeared. "Surveillance footage shows what looks to be a suit of purple armor flying right over Upstate, New York. Then here again departing from an actual Stark facility! No doubt taking after her late husband, Sir Anthony- '_I Am Iron Man_' -Stark." Highlight cut back to J. Jonah Jameson, fuming red with passion. "Who, need I remind you of his weapons dealing of an upbringing. These _Avengers_ may proclaim themselves to be '_Earth's Mightiest Heroes_', but don't be fooled, folks! They are the same group of dangerous individuals responsible for the Decimation five years ago. The destruction to our fair city, **twice**! And the devastating collateral damage in several other nations. Berlin, Lagos, Sokovia. And how can I almost forget **Washington**!" The raging internet personality at last settled himself to a reserved calm. "Now, folks… I know I'm not supposed to give my opinion. We are an unbiased news source after all. But my only deep lamenting sorrow goes to the great war hero, Captain Steven Grant Rogers. How did he ever get caught up in all this madness, the world may never know. I fear he too may have been yet another victim of the Masked Menace known as Spider-Man… Caught in his web of unjust death."

Both Peter and Karen let out an amazed, "_Wow_," of disbelief.

"In light of this recent, made very public lawsuit, yet another case of the fat cats trying to stomp all over the little guy. I've decided it best for the safety of myself and my crew to move our show, now number one on iTunes and Spotify, to an undisclosed location… in case the day inevitably came where Spider-Man himself were to come looking for me…"

Parker sat in baffled silence, jaw clenched.

"He's still out there, folks. Stay safe. Stay vigilant… and **stay tuned in to The Daily Bugle Dot Net**! John Jonah Jameson, signing off."

"Peter…," Karen spoke softly and cautiously. "Your anxiety levels are spiking, are you-"

The young boy flopped onto the roof of the water tower, curling his fingers into the face of his mask. A groan swelled to an inevitably loud eruption. He ripped off the mask, screaming up into the night sky in utter helpless frustration.

* * *

The dawn of another grim morning clouded over Manhattan's Upper West Side. At the southernmost edge of this busy borough, a freshly renovated office building welcomed in its newest tenants.

"Haw haw! At long last!"

The boastful announcement upon entering the space came from none other than Franklin Percy "Foggy" Nelson himself. He kicked open the door for his arms where fully stacked with boxes of supplies. Behind him, entered Matthew Murdock and Karen Page to round out the trio; both carrying in their giant fax machine.

The struggling blonde continued her best to lift her end of the bulky unit. "Watch the corners."

"Yes," He replied with a slight chuckle, "I know where the corners are."

"Right," she apologized.

"Let's just place it against this wall here. Right by the outlet."

Together, they did so quickly.

"Jesus, that thing." She wiped the sweat from her forehead and air dried her clammy hands.

Foggy dropped his full boxes onto his already situated work desk. Surrounding said desk was the rest of his piles. "Hey, it was your idea to bring that dinosaur with us."

"I know I just… I couldn't bare to leave it behind." She fixed her hair behind her ear. "Nostalgic, sentimental purposes, you know?"

"Yeah, we know. Hardly works half the time when we actually need it, but, heck, it's been with us since the beginning."

"First thing you ever bought for the office, while you were…" Matthew adjusted his frames and crossed his arms like a parent. "I'm sorry, doing _what_ again exactly?"

"Let's not dip back into one of my many, _many_ reckless and life-threatening endeavors. Best to leave them all in the past with the rest of that junk."

"But not _this_ junk." Foggy pointed to the old apparatus. "This junk is special."

"It is." Karen giggled.

Murdock hunched over to plug in the last of their office equipment. He stretched back upright with a slight grimace for he was sore from the night before.

His best friend patted him hard on the back. "You okay there, gramps?"

Matthew faked a laugh, "I'm alright, Foggy. Just… took a hard hit last night is all."

"You were _out_ again?" Karen asked worriedly.

"Yeah, was following a lead. Until… some idiot came along and let him get away."

"Okay, well just be careful. At the Bulletin we've also been investigating these strange disappearances all over the city. And they don't seem to be slowing down. It's only getting worse."

"All the more reason to track them to the source, and for the record," He smiled at her in reassurance. "I'm always careful."

The lovely blonde could not help but smile back with hints of blush on her fair cheeks. "Alright then erm, I should… I should go bring in the last of our things."

"Cool. We'll start unpacking." Nelson waved her off as she stepped out. Once clear, he grinned childishly to Matthew.

"What?" Though blind, he could tell.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to."

"Oh, get out of here with those heightened senses of yours!"

"Foggy,"

Both began unloading all their files and other office supplies onto their desks and into their proper cabinets.

"I'm just picking up on some sparks is all."

"There's no sparks, Fog. We're just friends now. Besides, she doesn't react the same way towards me. Yes, she still cares, I can feel that. But, no, not like before. I would know."

"Course you would. I swear, man. It's like you refuse to be happy. Even for a split millisecond."

"There's too much going on."

"Uh huh, like throwing out your back?"

"I did not-" He pushed him away playfully.

Franklin kept it going. "You should be lucky she's still interested. A strong, young, able-bodied woman. We were blessed to have skipped those five years. You on the other hand, pushing forty now?"

"You done?"

"I mean, I can see the grey coming in."

Murdock rested his hands on his hips.

"Okay, alright." Nelson surrendered with his hands up. "Then go on. Tell me about what happened last night. About the idiot."

"You're not gonna believe who it was."

"Try me?"

"Spider-Man."

"The _Masked Menace_ guy!?" Franklin put a pause to his filing, for his full attention was captured.

"Yeah."

"He's been all over the news lately. But, god, his voice…" Foggy recalled how the boy in question sounded based off Beck's viral confession video and his own public press conference. "You got your ass handed to you by a twelve year old, Iron Man obsessed psycho?"

"He wasn't _twelve_. But… yes." Matthew admitted with some shame. "He was strong. Insanely strong."

"Like Luke Cage strong?"

"Maybe stronger."

"Whoah… you came out lucky then. Is he working for the Maggia?"

Nelson knew all that Matthew was up to as Daredevil. From the slew of missing persons to the Maggia somehow being involved. He kept no secrets from his closest friends anymore. They were all on stable ground. Their relationship, healthy. Matthew was incredibly relieved and grateful to have had them back after the Snap. Though it was not enough to fill the hateful void he carried within.

"No, I don't think so. He was clueless to the whole situation. And from what I could tell, he's not the murderer they're saying he is."

"How so?"

"Because, in our fight, he wasn't trying to kill me. And he easily could have after leaving me strung up in this weird substance of his. Smelled like hot nylon and vinegar."

"That explains this." Nelson walked by to pull a stretching gunk of web from behind Matthew's ear.

"Really?" He sighed with irritation. "I thought I scrubbed off the last of it."

"If he left you like a captured fly, how'd you get away before the cops showed?" Foggy asked as he tossed out the dried strings of fluid.

"I got lucky…"

That late, eventful evening the rotating sirens of parked responders lit the dark alley in glaring red. Policemen approached the target webbed up before them, weapons aimed and ready. Daredevil felt the faint heat of their flashlights on the skin of his exposed mouth. He mentally prepared himself to fight his way through the authorities once he was released from his entrapment. It would not have been the first time in his vigilante career. Already he had counted the set of footsteps that surrounded him. To his relieving surprise, a familiar voice then ordered the officers to stand down.

"Lower the guns, boys. Like it or not, he's on our side." The commanding detective strutted right up to his old acquaintance, resting his hands above his belt. He could not help but take in some minor enjoyment from this rare view. "You sure have a knack for getting _caught_ up with these whack jobs, friend."

"Mahoney?" Foggy guessed.

"Mahoney," Matthew answered. "After they cut me down, I told him what happened."

"That the Itsy Bitsy _Spiderling_ let the Maggia goon get away while making you look like an amateur."

"He was trying to do the right thing, but, again, this is a kid we're talking about. He just jumped in thinking I was the bad guy."

"Well with how brutal you've gotten lately, can you blame him?"

Their conversation took a more serious tonal shift.

Matthew hesitated to respond for he was already annoyed, "You sneak this in every chance you get."

"You enjoy beating on people. I get that. Quite a character flaw, but I get it and I accept you. But you don't just stop there anymore. You don't simply beat them… now you _break_ them."

"You're not out there like I am. You don't know the extent of what these animals are capable of. Especially after the-"

"Maybe not. But I'm seeing what _you're_ capable of. I've seen some of your handy work courtesy of Detective Mahoney."

"Oh please." He turned away, dismissing his concerned friend's warning.

"You're walking that dangerously fine line again, Matt. Next thing you know you'll be just another Frank Castle!"

"I'm not **killing** anyone. That's not who I-"

"You've always struggled with this. How many times have you wanted so desperately to kill Fisk!?"

"But did I!?"

"Almost! I like to think we helped in talking sense into you. Which is what I'm _**trying**_ to do now."

"And I appreciate that. Really, I do, but trust me, I'm **fine**."

"No you're **not**. Not with how far you've been going!"

Matthew paced about, wiping down his face in frustration. His heart pumping with aggravation.

"Snapping limbs, leaving muggers completely comatose. You even paralyzed a guy!"

He had reached his boiling point. "**It's what they deserve****!**"

"**He was tipping over an ATM!**"

Matthew stopped at the opposite end of the roomy space, needing a break from this heated escalation. The 16th floor view of Central Park stretched before him. The dying leaves in vibrant contrast beneath the overlaying bleak sky of grey.

His dear friend inched in with caution, voice now softened with sincerity. "What happened to you, man? Throughout all the violence, least when it really came down to it, it was always about saving people. But when's the last time you actually did that?"

He remained silent, refusing to even acknowledge that question.

"Now you're just… _hunting_. Hunting down any _wrongdoer_ no matter where they fall on your food chain. Anyone who so much as litters. It's nerve racking, downright scary. The only time you seem yourself is when you're with us. Really, man… what the hell happened?"

Vile memories erupted from his traumatized past "...the rapture happened."

One traumatic memory in particular… scorched onto his daily thoughts. One of Murdock in his black vigilante attire, drowning in a loud sea of chaotic sin. His hand dangled above all the wrestling bodies of greed and selfishness, grasping desperately for salvation… for hope. Both devoid of reach, abandoning the warrior of God to fight the overwhelming wave of madness alone.

Nelson placed his hand onto Matthew's shoulder, which jolted him back to the present. His defensive reflexes involuntarily kicked in, flinching away into a quick boxing stance.

"Easy! Easy… it's me."

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," He nudged his arm, "You know, eventually you're going to have to tell us what went on with you while we were gone."

"I will. Yeah. It's just-"

"I know… _A lot going on_." He finished with a kind smile.

Page returned to the office from her car with the last of their important documents. "And thus, the last of the case files." She placed them onto her desk which stayed strategically before the entrance to welcome in clients.

Franklin groaned. "I purposely forget we've stacked up this many."

Matthew, already recollected, adjusted his tie as he added on. "Lots of vanished victims want their property back, their homes."

The two instinctively agreed it best to keep their escalated discussion between themselves for the time being.

"Yeah and Manhattan, already being as densely populated as it is," she began filing the folders into her drawers alphabetically, "just happened to also take one of the heaviest hits in the whole country."

"That's the bad. The good news is that New York extended the years to reclaim one's estate from three to five under our CLS."

"Due to extremely _unprecedented_, _universal_, and _genocidal_ circumstances." Nelson further quoted the state's law change to Karen.

"Exactly," Murdock sat at his desk to organize his braille setup to his satisfaction. "Now it's up to the court system to process through it all. Which is where we come in to do our usual representation of defending those rightful claims."

"But the cases just _continue_ to flood in!" She exasperated with the stacks of binders scattered throughout their new place of work.

"Business is booming! This is what we wanted, right?"

"Be careful what we wish for has never rung truer." Page brushed her hair back. "Told you guys hiring some extra hands would've been beneficial."

"With what money?" Franklin blurted out in his finely tailored business suit and designer Salvatore shoes, swiping through his latest high-end smartwatch. This invited the silent glares of his friends. "Oh, no no no. Don't you two stare at me like that. I put all my Hogarth money into leasing this place!"

"And thanks again for that, Foggy." His best friend appreciated. "Especially for keeping us close to Hell's Kitchen."

"I haven't forgotten my roots. But yeah, how about we close some of these cases, then we can look into expanding Nelson, Murdock and Page. We have the room now after all." He gestured over to the spare office directly beside the large lobby for waiting. His order of guest chairs already neatly placed. Even went as far as to bring in some of he and Marci's condo art paintings for decor.

Matthew stood with a deep breath. "Best we can do then, for starters, is keep deferring our clientele to get their updated photo ID's instead." The blind lawyer suggested. "Process should give us a good two, three weeks to situate ourselves. Hopefully by then, Congress finishes up their new _Saved and Harbored Act_."

"And the nation's debt skyrockets yet again." Foggy proclaimed theatrically. "Seriously, the amount of financial backing and manpower it will take to build and sustain new affordable housing. Samson Development really has their work cut out for them."

"Well they can't expect to keep moving saved residents to the tents in Yankee Stadium all year." Karen pointed out. "The rich are doing their part. Lots of celebrities, mainly the music artists and athletes. There's various donations from all over. And plenty of high tier enterprises funding relief efforts."

"No Wall Street brokers though." Matthew snarked.

"_Ha_," his friend laughed sarcastically. "Those wolves are curling up in their dens with what they've got left until this all blows over."

"What surprised me was the Department of Education. A woman coming in from Austin called our old office, said UT was letting homeless victims stay at their dorms."

"Columbia is doing the same. Any free housing they can spare over at River Hall."

Franklin returned with the cynical realism. "The ED just wants to come off nice before they eventually push federal to reopen everyone's lost debt. And colleges won't be the only ones."

"Wait, I thought a person's debt carried over to their cosigners or immediate family?" Their Office Manager, as she liked to be called, inquired.

"Cosigner, maybe, if the person's estate doesn't fully cover the balance." The successful, blonde lawyer educated her. "But spouses, parents, any of that, no. It's a common misconception, but there's actually zero familial obligation to pay off one's debt."

"They just want you to think there is." Matthew told her with a smile.

"Your debt is your own. Once you die, it dies with you and creditors _scream_ into the abyss." Foggy finished, again, theatrically.

"No wonder why my student loans and credit cards have stopped cluttering the mail."

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

She completed emptying the last of the document boxes into her drawers and filing cabinet behind her desk. "Well, our doors officially open tomorrow. It will be a lot, but I'm already in the right frame of mind." Their friend then stood, grabbing her bag as she headed out. "You guys finish up putting together your work spaces. I'm going on a coffee run. The usual?"

They both nodded and replied in unison. "The usual."

"Got it. Be back in a few."

After Page exited the floor once more, the sound of her heels fading down the long hall, Nelson turned to Murdock.

"Ready for the big day?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've got a lot going on remember? I just want to make sure you'll be focused. We're gonna be drastically outnumbered in this uncharted legal territory moving forward. I can't have you bailing on us when we absolutely need-"

"Relax, Foggy. You may be paying the bills for the moment but we're still partners here. Don't start talking to me like my employer. And, hey, I like to think that I've gotten the hang of this whole 'lawyer by day, vigilante by night' thing over the years."

"Okay… just throwing it out there. We're counting on you, Matt."

"I know… Now lets just," He cleared his throat. "Let's finish all the preparations. We've both got places to be today before rush hour."

The two longtime friends carried on with their preparations for the inevitable lines of clients that would flood through their doors. Clients in desperate need of _saving_ in this unprepared new world, post-decimation.

* * *

Lucia stared out the tinted window of the black vehicle they were being transported in. She and her friends, minus the boy for he had stayed behind, had a pleasant stay at their accommodating hotel in Sunnyside. They were all well rested, and, for the first time since her return to this world, well bathed and nourished. Yet the quiet ride continued to trouble the young foreigner.

"Still nervous, Dutches?" Harold asked, smelling fresh with his strong aftershave.

"Aren't you? They wouldn't even tell us where we were going."

"Just standard procedure." Whelan assured her. "I've been taken to three separate places already. They've got research labs all over the city. Don't want the press or competition knowing about what they're cooking up and where."

"And I'm sure testing new pharmaceuticals on the poor, uninsured homeless would be bad for their public image also."

"Baby, this is the way it's always been." Her elder friend attempted to explain.

"Yeah, yeah…" She rolled her eyes. "Trippy, fun times in the 80's. You've told me."

"And don't be surprised if they give you a paper to sign. Gotta agree to keep our lips tight on whatever goes on in there for us to get paid."

"Again, standard procedure. No biggie." Whelan tagged onto his old pal's correct statement.

"Not like there's anyone out there who'd listen to us." She continued brooding out the window.

"Alright we're here." Their driver announced.

The car pulled into a loading dock behind a warehouse in another part of Queens.

Nothing appeared suspicious to Lucia yet. She searched for a logo on the building and side of the semis, but nothing was within her eye line. The nameless organization remained as such. Before no time, they were escorted inside by standard security, carrying no firearms in sight. Tasers at most.

Within the operating compound was even less to be concerned over. The workers were dressed as to be expected; in casual jeans, orange vests, and protective gloves. They seemed to be operating minute machinery that labelled and packaged… sports vitamins.

"Welcome to our prep and storage facility, SW-1." A plain looking man in a lab coat greeted them. "My name is Alvin. I'm the supervising researcher here, and I just so happen to also manage the entire warehouse actually." He chuckled awkwardly. "Work's a little tight these days, I'm afraid. Um, my station's actually downstairs. Please, follow me."

The party made their way over to the elevators. Lucia followed closely behind the bow legged scientist. His mere non threatening appearance eased her mind of all its foreboding thoughts. He reminded Lucia of all her equally nerdy and socially inept peers back at her tech startup.

"As you can see, we package performance enhancements here. Newly formulated pre-workouts, supplements, things of that mature. All non-addictive, of course, and in line with FDA guidelines. Once approved and nicely wrapped in a neat bow, I make sure to oversee inventory before our trucks load up the product for distribution."

Harold let out a loud yawn. "Man, good thing we left Junior at home. Would've had to carry his bored to sleep ass."

"Boring is good." Whelan whispered to Lucia.

They entered the spacious elevator. No guards, solely the three volunteers with the Supervisor.

"So, as Mr. Whelan might have already told you, yes, our company has several other facilities around New York. Yet we are still, how do I put it? Struggling afloat."

"Because of the Blip?" She asked.

"Indeed. Many companies went under during those five years. Entire workforces suddenly vanished. Now? Everyone's back and desperate for jobs again. But we just don't have the hours to go around. Our staff is short as you saw. Heck, _I'm_ the entire management team."

They descended two floors below.

"The only reason we survived was because of left over funds from an initial military contract at the industry's inception."

"What did the military have you researching for them?"

"Not too far off from what we are still doing. Enhancing to body to achieving its maximum potential. Only to a more extreme extent. We were toying with a hypothesis of biotech. Even began preliminary trials. The head scientist we were working for, ugh. Brilliant! Truly Brilliant, one of his kind. But alas…"

Harold snapped his fingers.

"Correct," responded Alvin. "Half of our entire staff gone. Government took it upon themselves to refocus their resources on restoring order to the country, defending their own valuable assets from the immanent possibility of another alien attack."

The doors opened, welcoming the party to a clean, white laboratory. Same floor size as the warehouse above, only appeared smaller due to the increase in rooms. The dozen or so brains of this operation seemed spread thin as well, and some looked fresh out of undergrad. The visitors embarked down the main hall as the head researcher continued elaborating.

"Please, right this way. So yes, my quote on quote, '_science division_'… is spread just as far few in between as our labor force above. I keep sending emails for much needed support, but our high stakes entrepreneur of a CEO made a huge property investment in downtown _years_ back. He's still trying to flip that into a profit. Thus, here we are for the time being. We uh work with what we have."

A well postured lady, also in a lab coat, awaited everyone at their turn of the corner.

"These the volunteers?" She asked politely.

"Why, Grace." A bit startled. "Yes, erm. Here they are, present and accounted for. Everyone, this is Grace. My assistant, I suppose."

She smiled, fixing her circle-framed glasses. "Please, an underpaid intern at best."

"She's quite a kidder. But, yes, under different circumstances, we'd normally put the word out around local campuses. Pay the participants of the experiments a fair sum. But, once again, due to the confining circumstances and the secrecy of what we're trying to develop, we've had to resort to the unlikeliest of employ."

"We still getting paid though right?" Harold made sure to seek clarification.

"Yes," The supervisor laughed. "Not as much as we'd like, but our employer has his connections. What we lack up front we hope more than made up for with your housing and career opportunity. The details of which you'll all go over in your paperwork. Lady Grace, I leave them in your hands." Alvin bid farewell to the trio. "It was a pleasure, um, thank you all for agreeing to this. You're complimenting us an enormous favor."

Off he went, checking his clipboard as he exited down the hall.

"Right this way, miss." The woman called to Lucia's roving attention. "This room right here."

She then directed the men to wait patiently in separate rooms across the hall, explaining that she would be with them shortly.

The interior was laid out much like that of a checkup clinic's with the glass wall cabinets, countered sink, and whatnot. Except there was a simple long table in the middle instead of the common family practice version. Lucia took her seat at its end. Grace planted herself on the wheeled stool and pulled out a folder and capsule container from the drawers. She then slid over to join Lucia.

"Alrightie," The assistant attempted to pronounce the volunteer's full name. "Lucia von-"

"Don't bother." She quickly stopped her.

"Sure, okay well, let's get this out of the way then." A legal form was handed over. "An agreement to your full compliance and discrepancy. Read through it carefully. If you change your mind, that's perfectly understandable. Just know you will also forfeit your new place of stay and employment position."

In other words… if Lucia refused to sign, she would be right back to where she first began. Homeless and hopeless. All that she witnessed here was as legitimate as could be. Nothing sketchy or out of the ordinary. Except for one thing…

"That man. The one who first picked us up in the Bronx. The big one. His head was sort of-"

"Ah, you must be referring to the ex-con leading our scout team. Again, what little manpower we do have left remains at the company's main facilities. The way it was explained to me, we've had to outsource that particular task from another unlikely well. Much like how we've been gathering our control groups for these experiments. But the higher ups believe in second chances, so don't let their presence frighten you."

"I see," She continued reading through the fine print.

"Any other questions? Concerns?"

She answered by signing on the dotted line. "No worries any longer." Lucia was fully onboard, wondering why she ever had such reservations at first.

"Wonderful."

"So, first up is a sleeping pill?"

"A bit more to it than that," She passed her the container. "We've engineered it to further relax the muscles during rest, increasing their O2 intake. The intent is to aid with injuries, repairing the body stronger than before, no matter how severely torn."

The assistant poured her a cup of water. After swallowing the pill. She felt… nothing.

"When will it take effect?"

"Not for another hour or two, least in theory. Once you start getting sleepy, feel free to use the sofa here. It's more comfortable than it looks."

Her final few words began to echo out as if underwater. Lucia's vision then blurred into doubles, triples. Her senses disoriented.

"I'll go ahead and continue on over to your friends. If you need any- Lucia? Lucia! Are you alright?"

Her heavy head dropped onto the surface of the table. Muffled poundings then stunted her hearing. Someone had barged in through the door. As her vision narrowed into darkness, she only heard vague fragments.

"What on **earth** do you think you're doing!? Storming in here like this!"

"We're moving the test subjects."

His voice… She recognized it. Even as low and tunneled as it was, that gruff accent was unmistakable. It was the man from their initial ride. Their recruiter.

"You can't just- we weren't informed!"

"Don't matter. Change a plans."

"On whose authority, you- you **thug**?"

"The _**Big Man**_, himself."

All sound had drowned out into dead silence. Any awareness of time had completely escaped Lucia. Her mind adrift in the void. Then faint hints of drills awoke her senses. After the drills, an echo of voices followed.

"Alright, alright, alright…" It was a man, clapping for everyone's attention. His tone was smooth and confident; a natural public speaker. "Let's see what sticks, people!"

Her vision slowly returned though still heavily blurred and darkened. She knew naught where she was, or if she was even in the same facility. All she could make out was the speaking silhouette standing on an elevated catwalk before her.

"I want results! My business partner shares the same urgency. Let's make it happen!" He clapped his hands once more with spirit. His figure was tall and slender; sounded like the man in charge.

"Sir!" A distant voice alerted from below. "Her vitals have come online. She's waking up!"

"Impossible!" The leader cried in outrage. "All the other subjects remained under through the whole procedure. Why is she different?"

Another out of focus worker contributed. "Her bio readings, Sir! She had some sort of implant, augmenting her internal physiology. It's causing an extreme reaction!"

"She's… already _enhanced_?"

As Lucia grew closer and closer to full consciousness, she began to feel a strange sensation of… weightlessness.

"Appears so. Should we abort, Sir!?"

"Don't you dare! This could be the missing variable."

More cleared before her eyes. She noticed rows of computers beneath a catwalk, manned by personnel in white. The head figure above appeared to be wearing a black business suit. His arms were firmly gripped onto the railing bar, leaning forward to stare intently at her. Just as his face was about to become visibly clear…

"Proceed."

Lucia experienced what she could best describe as a flurry of electrically charged needles stab completely through her all at once. She screamed out at the excruciating jolt of pain, her back arched. The shock fully reactivated her senses. Violently flailing her head about, she saw that she was in a human tube; floating in a gel-like liquid of green.

"Up the dosage! I want full symbiosis."

"But, Sir?"

A distressing alarm rang off in her very eardrums.

"I do not repeat myself."

Air bubbles filled her field of view, for she let out an appalling shriek as the needles suddenly popped in diameter. Every single atom of her being stretched with torturous agony. Then she got a look at her hands. Utterly obliterated. Replaced with elongated blades and bizarre moving mechanisms that trailed up her forearms.

_What have they done to me!?_

She caught a horrific glimpse of her misty red blood meshing with the green ooze of the human chamber. Then the final image that violated her forced awakened sight was that of a sinister grin from just beyond the glass. The slender man had made his way up to her. This green tinted smile of his widened ghastly with the curve of the tube. Lucia had already guessed what heartless monster she was dealing with before blacking out from the torment… _The Big Man_.


	5. After School Special

"Have a seat, Peter."

The concerned student stepped into the principal's office. His aunt May was already present.

"What's, um, going on?" He asked as he joined her side.

"Some not so great news, I'm afraid." Principal Morita took a moment to formulate how exactly he was to deliver this. "We've… first, let me preface this by reiterating that neither myself nor the faculty here believe you are any sort of threat or even the slightest bit problematic. You're one of our brightest students. We understand and empathize with your extreme situation, Parker, but…"

May braced herself with unnerving apprehension etched all over her face.

"We've received some alarming phone calls after the first day."

"Oh no! Did someone threaten to attack the school?" Her worried mind immediately jumped to the worst imaginable scenario.

"No! No. Nothing like that. Something worse actually…"

The Parkers anxiously awaited what dreadfully possible response would come.

"Parent complaints." He answered.

They sighed away in both irritation and defeat.

"They're threatening to pull their kids, and since we're privately owned, major funding would go as well. There's even talk of a class action lawsuit."

"Jesus," May shook her head.

"They feel their children are unsafe with Peter still enrolled here, calling us _irresponsible_. And with how desperate the times currently are, we can't afford to leave this matter unnoticed- unaddressed. The board has requested that Mr. Parker remain off the premises until further notice."

"You're expelling him for something that's not even his fault!?" The fumes of motherly anger were indeed boiling.

"Ma'am, it will not be filed as an expulsion. We simply need to-"

"Need to make nice with all the pompous, rich parents. Yeah, no, I get it. This is unbelievable! What? Is Peter now supposed to wait around, miss the full year? Go to a district school?"

"I understand your frustration, but please-"

She shot out of her seat, arguing directly into his face. "A public school will make him register his current address. He won't be safe! Do you understand? Do you, _really_?"

As the adults went back and forth, Peter left his chair unnoticed. He paced about at the far end of the office. Just when the boy had thought life ceased throwing its cheap shots, another now sidelined him.

May had every right to be furious, for she was right. If he were to transfer to a public school, his established safety bubble would be no more. Anyone could walk in and talk their way into obtaining his personal records, even random faculty.

Midtown was a special case. They enforced stricter security, for one, especially after the viral video. Maintained a smaller staff that all knew Peter, looked out for him. They even signed his legal team's nondisclosure agreement regarding his secret relocation. A city funded school may not be so inclined to do the same when Peter Parker aka Spider-Man is New York's public enemy number one.

_What am I going to do?_ Peter feared he would have to disappear all over again.

Peering in between the window blinds was none other than Michelle Jones, seeing her boyfriend look gravely distraught. Having shared their last class period, she witnessed Peter be summoned to principal Morita's. She requested a hall pass as an excuse to go check on him. At first she waited out in the hall, but her plan changed once she heard the yelling.

Soon as Parker caught a glimpse of her, he slipped out to meet.

"MJ, what are you doing here?" He asked, gently grabbing hold of her arms.

She held his in return, "I heard your Aunt yelling, and wow she is really letting him have it."

"Yeah, once she gets started, forget about it." He pulled onto his backpack strap, fidgeting about. "Listen um…"

She asked sharply with irritation in her voice. "What is it this time?" Michelle knew dating a superhero would come with its complications, but it seemed never ending with Peter.

"I'm… I'm pretty sure I'm getting kicked out of school."

"**What**?" She exclaimed.

Parker, slightly startled, shushed her down.

"It's barely day two." She spoke more quietly. "You didn't do anything."

"I know. I know, but the controversy around _you know who_ wasted no time in getting to me."

"No wonder why she's pissed."

"Yeah,"

"You telling Ned?"

"I mean eventually I-"

"Tell Ned what?" Leeds came down the stairs, completing the signature trio.

"School's kicking Peter out because of Spider-Man."

"**What**!?"

Parker now shushed his best friend as well. Then the door suddenly swung open with a loud bang.

"Let's go, Peter. I'm done hearing all this- this **bullshit**!" May struck emphasis on the final curse for Morita to hear. "I'm calling Ms. Walters," already scrolling through her contacts. "See what she recommends we do." She then noticed Michelle and Ned, "Oh, hi, you guys." And quickly hugged them both with an accompanying kiss-to-cheek greet.

"May, _please_ stop bothering our lawyers for everything." Her nephew whined.

"Stop being so embarrassed. It's what they're there for. Wait, on second thought. You're right, I should call Mrs. Potts instead."

Peter faced palmed dramatically.

"Okay," As it began to ring, she held her phone between her ear and shoulder in order to dig around her purse for the keys. "I'll let you finish up with your friends. Going to pull the ride around."

Once his aunt had exited down the hall, the group huddled to a secluded area near a colorful school bulletin.

"So turns out, we won't be seeing much of you." Michelle uttered with a heavy heart.

"I'm sorry. This Parker luck of mine is the unwanted gift that just keeps on giving."

"More time to make a difference as Spider-Man though." Ned looked to the silver lining. "Any _luck_ there?"

"Not… exactly. Everyone's siding with the Bugle. Cops are more likely to shoot first, thank me never. But, hey, I took down this really angry costumed bad guy. So that's something."

"Costumed? Like a Vulture type?" His best friend asked.

"Less high tech. And replace wings with horns."

"_Horns_?" Jones pondered an immediate thought. Soon as Peter demonstrated said feature with his index fingers, she blurted forth at her correct realization. "You fought **_Daredevil_**?"

The lost boys were as clueless as ever. "_Who_?"

She was disappointed in them both. "What, do you guys just _not_ pay attention to what goes on in your own backyard? Especially after Peter started doing what he was doing? Like _Zero_ research to stay observant?"

"We…" Ned stammered slowly. "Follow… the Avengers…?"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Only care about what's mainstream. How typical." After a disappointing shake of her heard, she began to enlighten the two. "He's like an underground defender of New York. Striking fear into the worst this city has to offer. Mainly operates in Hell's Kitchen."

"I was… actually by Hell's Kitchen, yeah." Peter admitted.

"Then it was definitely him." She was confident.

"_Horns_, though? Seriously. Anyone can throw on a helmet like that."

"Did he have a matching red suit?"

"Hard to tell. Maybe?"

"Did he have sweet moves?"

"I mean, yeah, I guess."

"Then you definitely fought Daredevil."

"No no no…" Peter's brows raised as his hand covered his gaping mouth. "Then that means…" He groaned out at his unfathomable carelessness. "I helped the real bad guy get away!"

The bell rang dismissing final period. Soon all the rushing students would flood these quiet halls.

"You screwed up big time." Leeds patted him square on the back.

"Now what?" Michelle asked.

"I add it to my growing laundry list of things to work on." The boy had to conclude this huddle, for he could already feel the staring eyes of passing high schoolers. "Listen, I gotta go and figure out how to fix this. I'll be sure to pick up some burner phones for you to keep in touch."

As Peter rushed towards the nearby exit, he was not so subtly reminded, "Aren't you forgetting something!" He sidestepped back to peck his girlfriend on the lips. "Thanks." She was pleased.

After sharing an innocent smile, Parker carried on with his leave.

"Be careful!" Michelle's final goodbye attracted more attention than she intended.

Ned covered as best he could. "Be careful not to keep being mistaken for Spider-Man!"

"That's what I meant!"

"Because he's totally not!"

"Definitely! Yeah."

Their fellow classmates looked onto them as the weirdos they were before continuing on with their dismissal.

* * *

"Peter Parker…" A familiar voice uttered grimly.

The unsuspecting junior, now former, made his way through the barricaded school zone, for pockets of media were already present; like clockwork. Lost in his own thoughts, the boy was completely unaware that he was also being watched from afar. Hidden perfectly in plain sight was a blind man at the corner across the street. Matthew Murdock, wearing his same old grey and unpressed business suit from the move this morning. Much like his current emotional state, it had seen better days.

Even with numerous distractions: school bus engines, city train struggling along, nagging reporters, and cliques of wandering students conversing and gorging on carbs. None of it mattered. Meaningless white noise, for Murdock honed in on something unmistakably unique to his target and solely him.

_The idiot carries it to school._

Even as the vehicle slowly drove off with the young boy, the chemical stench of his webbing mixture followed. The scented trail was strong. Matthew would not lose him. The devil in disguise embarked on his steady pursuit, vanishing into the crowds of pedestrians.

Blocks into his stroll, an abrupt collision of steel crunching against aluminum demanded his attention. A car accident down 5th Avenue.

A younger Matt would have sprinted straight into the crash to make sure all was well. But in the moment of impact, his heightened senses assessed the entire incident. One impatient driver tried to cut a turn right after the light change. The passengers were all fine, simply in a minor state of shock. Hearts naturally raced, pumping louder than the reacting commotion from the surrounding bystanders, their blood rushing with hateful frustration. The survivors were more infuriated at one another than the endangering situation itself.

No, Murdock was different now. He shrugged it off like an unwanted chore, feeling no need to involve himself in the same tiresome statements of comfort and reassurance, "You're okay now," and "Everything is going to be alright." He had lost his compassion for this city and its people, for he could not help but dwell on the past. Instead of calling him to action, the accident only called forth a triggered memory.

A door kicked open like a gunshot, giving way to the elevated midday breeze pushing passed Matthew's skin. The following whiff of smoke filled his nostrils, clouding his panicking mind. He stomped into his last boot and continued rushing towards the edge of the rooftop, hearing something enormous plummeting just beside his building. Something of heavy metal, engulfed in fire, and filled with terrified screams.

_Dear God. A plane!_

The explosion of impact knocked him off balance. The overwhelmed hero was short of breath, both from his mad hurry up all the flight of stairs, and at the devastation all around him. After quickly readjusting himself on the ledge, his head twitched in all directions, collecting as much audible information as he could.

Matthew failed to cease his frantic panting as he absorbed all the chaos: A chain reaction of unmanned vehicles crashing into other cars, into shops, into innocent **pedestrians**. New Yorkers were scrambling about in crazed disarray, crying for their missing loved ones.

"Wh-what's happening?"

People were vanishing into nothingness. He felt their final moments as they disintegrated away; fleeting emotions of confusion and _fear_.

Another explosion then rang out three blocks over. An abandoned fuel truck had skidded smack into an electronics store. The flames spread wild onto neighboring complexes and onto the hectic streets. Though it only got worse, for just above Matt, a news helicopter spun out of control with the loss of its pilot. It collided with another chopper. The fiery debris scattered through skyscrapers, and rained down upon innocents. Gasoline and burning smoke suffocated the sky of helplessly screaming victims. Through his blind eyes, it truly was _a world on fire_. The stunned Defender from Hell's Kitchen knew naught where to even begin to help.

"DAD! _**DADDY**_!"

The tearful plea of a lost little boy trapped under fallen rubble made Matthew's decision evidently clear. He slipped on his black mask, and dived off the side of the rooftop just in time before the blazing tail of a copter dropped onto his position.

* * *

"Mrs. Parker," A stocky undercover security agent greeted the duo outside a pleasantly mundane four story lodge. "Did you circle around the perimeter five times as advised?"

"Yes, Clay. We did. You don't have to remind me every time." May answered brusquely.

"It's for your safety, ma'am."

"No, we're clear. I even made sure to double check." Peter assured him.

The seemingly average gardener scanned the area once over before giving the okay for the two to enter the place of hidden harbor. What he failed to suspect though was the blind man walking steadily down the opposite block.

Matthew Murdock had followed the chemically bonded trail to its source, finding himself in a quiet neighborhood of the Upper East Side. No matter how far his target got ahead of him, the odor still lingered densely enough for him to track at his leisure. The 4 p.m. traffic worked in his favor as well, for by the time he made the halfway mark, he picked up wind of the boy's stockpile at home. This allowed him to intercept them.

He gathered precisely seven total security personnel, including the gardener outside. Each carried a concealed firearm, and were easy to track with the static waves emanating off their ear pieces. He detected no other legitimate tenants residing in the building. Only the boy and his aunt already settling in at the top floor.

_Whole place must have been bought out._

Early in his career, Matt would have reconned the safehouse more patiently, awaiting possible shift changes. He would have snuck in through the side window, or whichever entry point granted him the least amount of resistance. But the Devil's fuse burned short these days, and after his embarrassing defeat the previous night, he was itching for retribution.

Resting on the corner was the foul stench of an unbathed homeless man that he had tried his best to ignore.

The beggar stumbled to his knees, "Can you help me get something to eat?"

Murdock simply advanced straight on. "Why?" His passing reply was as sharp as it was cold. He had more important things to focus on, offering not a single damn for this worthless disease that would only use his earnings for more liquor. He could still smell the whiskey on his breath from the day before.

As he approached the gated lodge, the pretender turned to him. "Good afternoon, sir."

"Beautiful place to hide a fugitive."

"I-I'm sorry?"

The blind stranger began picking the keyhole.

"_Sir_? Sir! What in God's name do you think you're-"

Once close enough, the trespasser jabbed the guard with the thickest end of his walking stick through the freshly painted bars. Nailed right in the throat, he dropped to the dying grass, gagging uncontrollably. The presumed harmless wanderer finished bypassing the gate, then whacked the fallen man unconscious. The homeless bum saw it all, and scurried away petrified. He was the only witness.

After folding in his four-section cane, tucking his specs into his inside pocket, and loosening his tie, Murdock knocked on the front door.

"Clay, you gotta stop forgetting the secret knock."

The sound of multiple locks slid and clicked open. The door itself had barely begun to creak an inch before it was slammed into the greeter. Stammered aback, he was then welcomed with a solid bare-knuckled fist to the nose. A satisfying **_crack_** rippled through Matthew's body, pleasing the Devil inside. His victim collapsed limply onto a glass coffee table.

Alarmed by the sudden shattering, the only other man standing in the lobby whipped his gaze over. After closing the door behind him, Murdock swiftly chucked his bundled cane, bopping the guard on the forehead before he could even drop his cup of joe.

Caught by surprise, taking down the first set was child's play; it was over before they could even realize it was happening. The man with a mission reclaimed his sturdy instrument and proceeded up the flight of stairs. The building was tight. Made for fewer but larger rooms on every floor, and, thus, narrower hallways.

"Hey, Pulaski. The kid forgot something in the ride. Can you go get it for him?"

Matthew overheard their comm chatter upon taking a knee at the end of the staircase on the second floor, just behind the corner of the wall.

"You heard me? Hey, Pulaski, do you copy?"

While awaiting the prime opportunity to strike, he fully undid his scarlet tie in order to wrap it around his eyes, concealing his identity. Though he detected no distinct hum that came off of surveillance cameras, the last thing he needed was a trained operative detailing a picture perfect account of his face.

"Ugh he's not responding. I'll go get it."

"I'm closer, boss. I can go check on him."

"Don't bother. Betchu' he took his earpiece off again to play that damn game on his phone. I'll go slap the goofy ass myself."

The head security guard was coming down from the fourth floor, soon to meet up with the lone sentry on the third. The remaining two on Matthew's current position nested in the far room, watching television.

"Oh man, we gotta see this."

Once the TV was shut off and the two stepped out onto his preferred terrain. The blind ninja dashed into action, bouncing off the wall to tackle down the closest agent.

"**What the f****-**"

His friend pulled out his pistol in a frightened hurry. But the intruder was much faster, and even without his reinforced suit, he was much stronger as well. Where someone like Captain Steven Grant Rogers was blessed with the Super Soldier Serum to gain peak human perfection, Murdock had no such blessing. Instead he had a brutal five years of obsessive training and conditioning to achieve that level of enhancement. On top of his further refined martial arts skills, he was better than he had ever been. And unfortunately for the pair facing him today, he was far more ruthless as well.

The Devil made short work of them with an onslaught of aggression.

The final pair arrived to the surprise of one of their own collapsing before them. Firearms were immediately drawn out, but when they checked around the corner, nothing; only their incapacitated colleagues. They advanced cautiously.

"Check the rooms." The head ordered, covering his true sense of uneasiness.

But that smell alone, that hint of fear, was plenty to draw the silent hunter out.

"Wait, why don't we just alert the kid? He's Spider-Man for God's sake."

They paused in place, but before the leader even had time to agree, he was struck from behind. Their very weapons used to beat them down. The seasoned vigilante ended his flawless assault with a spinning air-kick that launched the biggest clean through the drywall.

* * *

"Did you hear something!?" May asked his nephew midway through prepping something warm to eat.

He poked his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "Huh!?"

"The thud sound. No? Nothing?"

"Think it's just you, May!" He told her with a mouthful of foaming paste.

The family had remained perfectly oblivious to the entire infiltration. Then rang the doorbell.

"Oh, you see? Hurry and finish up. They probably dropped something and need your help moving it."

The boy was done rinsing before walking over to the door. "_My help_? Even with my proportional Spidey strength, there's like ten of 'em downstairs. I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious. Just bringing me my charger that I forgot."

Peter opened his new home to a grown man standing before him, feet apart, excellent posture. He wore a grey suit with red tinted glasses, and his folded hands rested over his planted walking stick.

_Is he blind? _"Um, hi?" The puzzled boy greeted in his soft, mumbling voice.

"I'm sorry?" The legally blind stranger leaned forth a bit, facing his ear towards the faint speaker. He was an expert by now at playing into the role of his presumed _disadvantage_.

"My bad. Yeah, erm." He tried louder and more articulate this time. "Hello, sir."

The guest smiled amusingly. "You must be Peter Parker." And extended his arm, offering a friendly handshake. "Jonathan Lantom. I'm the new attorney assigned to your case."

Parker was still rightfully apprehensive. He knew not just anyone was allowed in here. Even Pepper stayed in the dark regarding where Happy relocated them. Plus the lack of security escort was enough to raise suspicion, but Peter's mind was at peace. His natural sixth sense remained dormant, detecting zero danger from this handicapped stranger. He deemed it safe to accept the strong and firm handshake.

"Hey, nice to meet you. But uh-"

"Wow, that was fast!" May approached just beside her nephew to invite the gentlemen in. "Mrs. Potts said she'd send someone from legal, but I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow at the earliest."

"You are of our utmost priority, and due to my peculiar…" He gestured to his disability of sight. "_Status_. The firm agreed it best to dispatch me since I have absolutely no clue what borough I'm even in right now." He joked lightheartedly.

This brought a giggle to the aunt. "Peter, what are you doing? Please, let me walk you in. Forgive him."

Murdock felt her peach perfumed body gently press against his side. He gladly took her offered arm. "Thank you, Miss Parker."

"Oh, don't bother with that. Just call me May. Really."

"A lovely name to match the sweet voice."

He now felt the heat of her skin rising, body loosening with trusting ease at the innocent blandishing.

"Why thank you." She replied flattered, finding him handsomely charming.

_Ah, great. Here we go again_. Peter rolled his eyes as he shut the door.

They made their way to the living room.

"Potts gave me the rundown. Mr. Parker's recent academic inconvenience only serves as more ammunition to load onto his favor. And believe me," He tracked the young target's footsteps, gazing at his general direction. "I plan on firing with everything we've got."

"Good. Great! Yeah, that's what we want to hear." She sat him down on the long sofa, joining beside him also. Peter chose to remain afoot.

Murdock effortlessly used all his background intel from when he zeroed in on her conversation over the phone to carry along convincingly. "Then you'll love this. As you know, our goal here is to force Jameson into a settlement- to submit to the terms of our cease-and-desist order. Unfortunately, with the city backing him, he's not caving. But…" He set aside his stick. "Being unable to continue his education due to unjust public influence? This slander has already begun to affect your personal life, Mr. Parker. Now we can argue that your safety will inevitably follow. It's just what we needed."

"For what?" The boy in subject inquired.

"For this to go to trial of which there is no doubt in my mind it surely will."

"Oh my god." May gasped delightfully at the news.

"_That's_ the good news? Me being under the spotlight even more?"

The adults faced him.

"Honey, listen."

"With an open court, Jonah can't keep avoiding us or hide behind his newly acquired sponsors. He and the rest of the Bugle would have no choice but to present themselves by law, under Oath, and before the people of New York. And with all the money in the world, I guarantee Stark Industries will not let you lose the final verdict."

"Finally! A big step forward." His aunt rejoiced in her seat. "Instead of all this relocating and rude interviews and press statements and back-and-forth hooplas. Oh, I'm so happy! I'm going to bring us some drinks." She hopped up and headed back to the kitchen. "Peter, I know you love your hot coco." A fact he was quite embarrassed about in front of company. "And Jonathan? Coffee, anything?"

"No, no thank you." He smiled with his arms in polite protest. "I shouldn't impose."

"Please, it's no trouble at all. I love your manners, but stop it. Anything, I mean it. We also have soda- I can get you a beer?"

"Well alright," Even his polite laugh was charming. "If you insist-"

"I do. I very much so insist."

"Then, sure. I'll take some hot tea if you have any."

"Boiling up the water now." She shimmied over to the cabinets to search for a kettle.

"Wonderful." Murdock then stood from the long sofa. The making of tea was but a diversion for his true intentions. "Gives me time to go over strategy with Mr. Parker, here. In private, if I may?"

She waved them off from the stove. "Go ahead. Attorney-client privilege business, I know the drill."

The door to Peter's room closed behind them.

"Okay, cool." The ever on edge adolescent paced about. "So this goes to trial, awesome. Now what exactly do I say in front of the judge and _all_ New York to convince them I'm not Spi-"

"Sit down and shut up, you little shit." The blind lawyer switched tone of voice from civilly pleasant out there to intimidatingly hostile in here.

"I'm sorry, wha-" He was interrupted with the tip of the cane jabbing into his chest, planting him onto his wheeled desk chair.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" With his same assistance tool, he spun the boy to the center space.

Peter was beyond confused. Quickly he was realizing that this was not the attorney he claimed to be. "What are you talking about?"

"Swinging around the city in the ungodly hours of the night. Interfering with **_my_** lead."

_Holy shit!_ "Wait… y-you're _him_. You're **_Daredevil_**."

"And you're Spider-Man." He stood tall, gripping onto the leather of his handle.

"No I'm not." The blatant lie was but a reflex. The first thing the youngster could think to say in this tense confrontation.

"Seriously? Your increased heartbeat and reeking perspiration say different. And a word of legal counsel, invest in better bodyguards."

"No way. How come I-"

"Didn't detect anything?" Murdock figured he possessed some sort of natural warning system with the way he moved during their brawl. Among overhearing mention of a "special tingle" between he and his computer friend, of which seemed to be presently unaccounted for. _Must only be in the suit_. He thought to himself. "Because as much as I'd enjoy it, I'm not here to hurt you."

"Yeah right." The young Spider slipped into his alter ego. Yet another instinctual defense mechanism. "Last I remember, I'm the one that literally left _you_ hanging."

"You got the upper hand, I'll give you that. But now, so do I." He declared confidently.

The lawyer was right. Peter could not afford to risk an altercation here. Not with May just outside. And if the fight were to escalate outdoors, the entire block would know his classified location.

"How did you even find me?"

Matthew cracked his devilish smirk, "Please, I could have followed your anxiety all the way to Stamford. But if you must know…" and pounded his fist onto an overstocked bookshelf without even having to look. A vial dropped right into his grasp from the very top. "_This_ stinks up the place." He tossed it to the kid. "The only chemical compound of its kind, and only one person in the whole city that mixes it together."

"Okay, creepily cool." Parker looked back up at him after examining his web cartridge, thinking it was time to go back to formula. "Next question, are you even blind?"

"I see more than you. That much is painfully obvious."

"...hurtful-ly mysterious. Okay, then what do you want?"

"From you? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I just need you to steer the hell out of my way."

"Look, man--I mean," He corrected himself for sensitivity. "Sorry, _listen_. I didn't know what was going on. I barely learned about you this afternoon and I feel so stupid about it-"

"Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it." Murdock snapped harshly like a disgruntled parent while still managing to keep his composure. "That man you let go was an enforcer for the Maggia. One of the oldest running gangs in this city. I've tied them to a string of recent homicides. Slipped away from me and the police because of your naive gullibility. And guess what? Late this morning, another woman was found dead in a dumpster not even a city block from where we were. Body so mutilated, they couldn't even I.D. her."

"Oh my god…" The boy's very insides sunk to the deepest, guiltiest depths of his core.

"I take it you're finally listening? Good." He inched in close, hovering over the teenager. His voice now severely stern. "You have no idea what you just stepped into. And last night all you did was further complicate things. I was about to get answers and you completely **botched** that. Now I have to wait until a fresh lead rears its ugly head out, and it'll most likely be in the form of another dead body. And _whose_ fault will that be?"

"Please… Let me make it up to you. I can help."

"I don't need your help. _Clearly_." Murdock viewed him as but a mere inexperienced and spoiled brat. Only sheer miracles, expensive gadgets, and connections to those in high places could explain how he had not yet gotten himself killed. This boy would only further interfere. "I know you're not the murderer they're painting you to be. You're just a kid. Your heart was in the right place… But if you keep at this, you'll only continue making it worse. I don't need an Avengers' sidekick right now. What I need, again, is for you to **_back__ off_**, and let me continue my work."

"I-I'm so sorry, but…" An old, familiar feeling re-emerged within the boy. A great urge to take responsibility for his careless mistake. "Now that I know what's going on, you can't just expect me to look the other way."

"I can, and you will. Because if I sense you even within a five mile radius of me, my connections at the 17th precinct and the Bulletin will receive an anonymous tip as to the secret whereabouts of New York's wall crawling _Menace_."

A stage of sudden speechlessness struck Peter's throat, and the fact that this man was so calm throughout his warning, made it all the more unsettling. 

"And once the guards wake up, I'm sure their immediate course of action will be to relocate you. But that won't matter, because, no matter where you go, there's nowhere in this city I can't track you."

"Y-you wouldn't…" His panicked voice failed to not tremble.

"I wouldn't want to, but do not test me." The boy's heart rate skyrocketed well over 180 beats per minute. He was scared straight. Murdock's mission here was accomplished. "Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Mr. Parker." He turned his back on the distressed minor as he walked towards the bedroom door. "Excuse me, while I go say goodbye to your lovely aunt. And remember… you have enough on your plate at the moment. Stay out of trouble."

The Devil in a two piece business suit left the young teen alone to recover from his alarming state of panic. Beyond the door he accepted the cup of tea handed to him. He even carried on a bit of small talk before apologizing for having to leave so abruptly. In reality, his time was short due to the security personnel beginning to regain consciousness downstairs. He rejected her offer to walk him out, reassuring her that the guards who let him in would see him out. Murdock thanked her once again for the generous hospitality and went about his leave, exiting through the window on the deserted third floor.

She would soon learn the truth of what transpired here. If not by her nephew, then by the recovering guards. But the Devil cared naught. In his mind, he never planned on running into them ever again. Touching onto the cemented ground, he opened his palm to another web cartridge. After tossing the first vial to the boy, he did not notice him slip a second into his back pocket. A simple sleight of hand. Insurance in case the young Spider disobeyed his warning and attempted anything idiotic again.

Said Arachnid seemed to be running out of ever more luck. His tense body was barely beginning to relax after laying down onto his twin bed. His mind though, that still spun with worry. It knew naught how to even begin to handle this extreme case of his. His soul on the other hand. That was as calm as the serenity of a lake. It knew precisely **_what_** to do, without question, even if it was unsure of the specific _how_. Peter grabbed something from the foot of his bed. A picture frame of someone incredibly dear to him.

"No… I will **never** look the other way again."

Parker then rolled out of bed, pulling out his suitcase labelled "B.F.P." from beneath. The last of its kind for the rest of his bags were lost to the explosive battle in Europe. It was here that he kept his upgraded red and black Spider-Man suit. Now, a state of unrelenting determination engulfed his entire being: mind, body, and soul. After flipping his mask inside out and toggling with the circuitry, a hologram of recording files displayed before him, adding a digital green filter to his room.

"Karen," He whispered in case the Devil was still listening. "I know you were in sleep mode, but how much of that did you hear?"

"All of it, Peter." She replied calmly. "And not to worry. I hypothesize our new _friend_ is gifted with an enhanced form of superhuman hearing. I've established a sub-tuning frequency to shield the room. No one can hear us, but us."

"Awesome, because we got work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {End of Act I}


	6. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My city's quarantine has granted me the time from work to continue writing. Dense chapter below. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Stay safe, everyone.

Within the void of indefinite darkness, only the gurgling of air bubbles echoed out across the black plain. In time followed a series of words from deep subconscious thought.

_Lord…_

_Preemptive…_

_Horizon…_

Though random they seemed, each carried hidden meaning.

_Future…_

_Beaming…_

_Order…_

Triggered forth from immense, sudden trauma, this mental sequence ignited something within the unsuspecting host. It sparked a will…

_Nation…_

_All…_

_One…_

It sparked a purpose…

_Holy…_

_Conquest…_

_Prosperity…_

It sparked a rage.

_ **Doom!** _

Lucia's seemingly comatose body, torn and flayed anew, floated within the human test tube. All the roaming lab workers were far too preoccupied to notice the slightest twitch that graced her mechanical form. Then came the unthinkable to all the chattering scientists going over their formulas and data tables… the glass began to crack.

* * *

"This city's tearing me apart, man."

Matthew Murdock leisured his way down the familiar streets of Hell's Kitchen as he overheard the same repetitive complaints.

"Like, I can feel it."

Following the aroma of tulips and lavender, he entered a tiny corner store to escape the bickering frats. The clerk recognized his only blind regular.

"Murdock! It's not Sunday yet."

"No it is not, Khamal. But I figured I'd surprise her today."

"The usual then?"

He placed the money on the counter. "Don't forget, unscented."

The humble shop clerk handed him a small bouquet of flowers, arranged to his liking, and an unscented wax candle.

"Keep the change."

"Always a pleasure, Mister Murdock. She's lucky to have you."

Matthew politely smiled it off, more so to be done with the interaction. "I'm lucky to have her back." He then heard some panicked rummaging transpire in the back corner. Seemed the man could not travel five blocks without this city managing to get on his nerves. The vigilante incognito would rather not deal with this delinquency. "That kid just slipped a bottle into his jacket." He nonchalantly exited the shop after providing the tip.

"HEY! Yes, you! Put that back!"

Further into his final errand, Murdock found himself before the steps of old, sacred ground, Clinton church. A pair of young nuns greeted him upon his arrival. The temple was welcoming with its candlelit warmth and smell of oak wood. Though passing the empty ornate pews, he faltered on his climb to the altar. Faltered for he could not help but dwell on the tragedy that occurred at this very spot years ago. To this day, he could still hear his voice.

_Forgive us…_

Awaiting atop, a mother in the middle of setting up for the evening ceremony noticed her troubled son. "Well good afternoon, Matthew."

He turned to her direction, clearing his throat to proceed, "Sister Margaret," and joined her before the bible stand. The draped statue of a crucified Christ watched over them both.

"So formal."

"Still working my way up to mom." Matthew responded lightly, scrunching his face into a cheeky smirk.

She smiled in kind as she accepted his lovely presents. "And what's the occasion for this spontaneous visit?"

"I can leave if you'd like?" He suggested facetiously. "Walk out on you for the foreseeable future."

"You know you're always welcome here." Maggie was immune to his petty jokes, actually finding them to be a healthy form of acceptance for him. "It's just a break from your usual routine." She went ahead and replaced a nearby candle that was burning low with the newly gifted one. "Today's definitely not Ash Wednesday, not that it would matter, because you never attend mass anyhow. No, instead you take time out of your Sundays to drop off these much appreciated gifts, but-"

"But you still wish to know why the sudden visit, and why you never see me in the pews while we're at it."

"If you're open and willing." She assured him while neatly adding the bouquet to the front display.

"I guess both have to do with…" He paced around the religious centerpiece in contemplation, "I've just felt the need for some guidance," expressing himself the best he could. "You see, I've been having trouble understanding--understanding something I thought I had come to terms with as a kid, but in light of recent events, I'm… once again filled with doubt."

She prayed he could not detect her rising brows and slight smile of amusement. "...You have these existential crises of faith often?" Though her tone of voice gave her away.

They seemed to be quite a reoccurring habit with her boy.

Still, "How can you not?" He remained serious about his dilemma.

"Ask what you need to ask, Matthew."

That he did as he broke down his walking stick. "When you, along with the other half of the planet… disappeared. Completely erased from God's green earth…" A question that had lurked his mind for months since her return. "What did you see?"

"The honest truth?"

Her son awaited with dreaded anticipation.

"_Nothing…"_ She answered straight-faced. "I saw and felt nothing."

"At all?" Denial overcame him, for deep within he had hoped for something more, anything more.

"Not even a dream."

Harsh, cold reality now poured in where his faith used to be. "Then how can you still even belie-"

"Because this was not _God's_ doing, Matthew." Her iron strength of character extended to her firm Catholicism. "There was no afterlife for us because we were not dead. It was not our time. This was but the act of a _mad Titan_. An alien to our way of life, and the natural order. I need you to see that." She pleaded sternly.

As quickly as it was challenged, his faith was now being replenished.

"What that monster did to us… that power… do you _really_ think the Lord meant for any mortal creature to possess it all? And with it, to do so abruptly what he did?"

"Igniting the rapture."

"Is that what he did?" What happened to her, Maggie knew with absolute certainty was no act of last judgement. "Is that why our guardian angels moved heaven and earth and beyond to rectify his atrocity? Bringing us all back to the way things were."

"That's what you think they are?" Her cynical child could not help but chuckle at the absurdity.

"It's what I still _believe_ you to be. A diligent warrior of God, masking himself as the Devil to scare villainy away."

Humbled silence was the only way he was able to process her complimentary praise.

"Just as evil embodies many forms, so too does good."

Spoken as if the late Father Lantom was still with him. After that much needed guidance, Matthew was back on the right path.

Sister Maggie approached her son with some precaution, unsure if he would accept her physical affection. Little did she realize, he more than welcomed it. The mother's touch he was deprived of for all his youth.

She decided to merely place her hand up his arm, gently gripping his shoulder. "Still filled with doubt?" She asked rhetorically.

"No more than any other lost soul." He responded with a hint of gaiety.

"Just as melodramatic as your father." She said shaking her head right before softly patting the side of his neck. The elder nun returned to finalizing the surface of the counter-top. "Least this explains the source of your newfound aggressive endeavors during your dutiful nights."

"Have you been talking to Foggy?"

"No but if he's noticed the same behavior, it says a lot."

"Oh great. Here it comes." He retreated steps back to the rows of candles, enjoying the warm sanctuary from the dozens of fiery beads.

"No, no. This isn't a mother's lecture or even a Nun's catholic ass beating. If anything, this is encouragement." Being done with the preparations, she swayed around to look at Matthew, leaning against the marble altar.

"Really?" He asked, grazing his palm over the flames.

"...I'm in need of your special, God-given talents." Margaret was hesitant to ask such a favor, but she had no one else to confide in. "A young woman has gone missing. She grew up at the orphanage just as you did. Lucia… Lucia Von Bardas."

"_Von Bardas_?" Murdock ceased and offered all his undivided attention. "That sounds… where's she from, Sokovia?"

"_Worse_. A war-torn country that most still have never heard of… or even care to. Lucia came over when she was only a little girl and somehow she did so alone. No friends, family, papers. Just," The concerned Sister shrugged with no other explanation, "found herself on the yards of Liberty Island, unsure how."

"Odd."

"Very. No recollection. Only the magnificent statue looking down on her. She thought it was a miracle."

"And how did Lucia end up in the care of Saint Agnes?"

"Through me. I'm the one that found her running from a baker. She had stolen apple turnovers."

They both shared an innocent moment of mirth over the mundane detail.

"In that moment, when I was covering for the loss," His mother's raspy voice now surrendered low with sincerity, "watching as she curled up in her back alley box… this feeling just washed over me. It wasn't of selflessness or religious duty. It was guilt."

"You felt… _guilty_?"

It was rare for Murdock to witness such vulnerability from her. Much like himself, she was stubborn to the bone and would rather internalize her pain and emotions before showing anyone that weakness. Though not weakness of character, but rather to their rough, stoically independent exterior. For if that armor were to ever be fully cracked by their closest, they both knew that would be the worst kind of hurt. Matthew truly was his mother's son.

"I did. Because at that moment I couldn't help but think… this poor, lost child… alone and hungry on the streets of New York… could have very well been my son."

Twice now she had left him at a loss for words. Further proof of a sentimental fact that he had inferred: Margaret Grace was undoubtedly sorry for his rough, motherless upbringing. Things may have worked out for the best, with all the good the Devil of Hell's Kitchen had done and their eventual reunion, but that did not undo the deep regret that was and would continue to be a part of her. Even back then, the secret wounded her.

"Help me find her, Matthew. It's not like her to drop contact. Even when she returned from the Snap, homeless and unemployed, she still wrote in every week. Promptly. I know you already have your hands full, but-"

"Don't worry, Maggie. I-I'll find her. Just need to know where to start."

Her worried heart rejoiced with conceivable hope. "The Department of Labor offices on Varick and Watts. In her last letter, she mentioned that was where she was visiting for aid and workshops. If she was sent anywhere else, they'd know. I've tried contacting them, but they refuse to give me anything. Perhaps they'll be more inclined to answer to a lawyer." Sister Maggie smirked proudly.

"I'll look into it." He began unfolding his walking stick. "In fact, it's quite a commute. I should get going now before they close." Down the altar steps he went.

"And Matthew!"

"Yeah?" Her son turned halfway down the nave.

"Thank you."

No heightened senses were needed to pick up on the wholehearted gratitude.

"Sure thing… _mom_."

His final smile of love and forgiveness was everything to her. If only it was as easy for him to forgive his city.

Matthew Murdock departed from the church to embark on his new search. Already he suspected Lucia to be another missing victim of whatever the Maggia were up to. Unfortunate that the fresh lead he was eager for ended up coming from a familiar source. Though the personal connection would perhaps be enough to bring forth what Nelson was pressing him about.

…_Throughout all the violence, least when it really came down to it, it was always about saving people. But when's the last time you actually did that?_

Hopefully it would not be too late, but never could the blind vigilante have foretold what unprecedented new threat he would encounter with Lucia Von Bardas at the dead center of it all.

* * *

"I can't _**believe**_ that guy!"

Elsewhere, on the other side of the East River, Peter Parker was in the middle of a heated phone call with his best friend, Ned Leeds.

"Came right to your place?"

His trusted mate was thoroughly, and quite passionately, brought up to speed on the incident that befell the unsuspecting boy earlier this afternoon along with its immediate repercussions.

"Straight through the lodge, Ned! Tracked me down and took out the Stark security like they were nothing!"

"Badaaass." He found it incredibly impressive that a lone man would march into an Avenger's hidden stronghold just to deliver a warning, and all without a costume; truly fearless.

"No! Not badass. That was a-a," Though he tried, the boy failed to hold back the profanity, "a _**dick**_ move! What if we had gotten into another fight? May could have gotten hurt! She's already _freaking_ out as they move us."

"Why didn't you just web him up?" Leeds remained neutral and asked pragmatically, even with Parker maintaining an elevated voice for a good eighty percent of this conversation.

"He had my fluid." He admitted shamefully.

"Your what?"

"My _**web**_ _fluid_ that I load into my cartri-UGH! Look, not important. Point _is_, I messed up way worse than I thought. A woman is dead because of me, Ned. _**Dead**_. I _have_ to get to the bottom of this."

"But why though?" He expressed more concern for Peter's safety. "This sounds serious, like _dark_ serious. Just let Daredevil handle it."

"What if he needs help?"

"Pretty sure he won't. Guy's been doing this a lot longer than you have."

"_**Okay**_, well, _I_ still need to do this." He declared, being quite offended.

"_**Why?**_" Now Ned was getting frustrated as he prodded for sound reasoning. "Your aunt doesn't want you out anymore. The police aren't taking any chances with Spider-Man. _Why_ do you still want to involve yourself?"

"**Because I can!**" The young hero spazzed out emotionally.

"But Peter-" His dear friend still tried to rationalize with him.

"Dude," A deep breath was taken, "now that I know what's going on, I can't ignore it." Parker explained himself with a leveled head. "I tried letting another hero '_handle it_' during Europe and look how that turned out. And when I've looked the other way in the past…" So returned the great burden of guilt. "Well, you were at the funeral."

That he was and Leeds remembered just how wounding the heavy loss was, for both Peter and his widowed aunt. Being his only friend at the time, he was the sole one to aid him through every stage of the grief. Only in hindsight did he also come to realize that that very tragedy was the initial motive behind Peter Parker donning the sweatsuit.

"I made a careless mistake, I know, but I'm still in a rare position to do some good. If I don't and more people get hurt, I-I feel like that's on me." He caught himself sounding quite like his belated mentor. "I can't put it any simpler than that."

"Okay, okay…" He understood profoundly and as clear as crystal. His Man in the Chair would provide assistance in any which way required. "So if this call isn't to talk you out of it, then what do you need from me?"

"I need you to cover for me. If May asks, say I'm at your place venting. If she pushes, put her on speaker. Karen will patch me through to your computer, so it sounds like I'm really there."

"Got it."

"And…" His voice fell with sentiment. "Tell MJ I'm sorry for being a lousy boyfriend."

"She doesn't think that." Ned assured him with empathy. "She totally understands."

"Still." Rarely did it slip through the cracks, but always the guilt was stored within. "She doesn't deserve this."

"Um, wait…" A flaw in their plot had suddenly occurred to him. "How exactly do you plan sneaking out?"

The disobedient teenager chuckled red-handedly. "About that…" For his friend was completely unaware that the Web Spinner was already swinging about as the sun set before their borough.

"Peterrr?" Ned asked as if he were one of their teachers.

He hastily ended the conversation. "Gotta go! Remember to only use the burner. Thanks, bye!"

"What? No-Peter-wai-" The loyal at home companion was left speaking to the monotone beeps of the concluded call. He too hung up, staring dumbfounded and perplexed at all the angles of this cheap plastic excuse for a phone. "Who even told him about these bricks?"

* * *

Murdock took it upon himself to stop by his apartment to pick up his essential suitcase before the Metro ride. Essential, for carried within was his alternate uniform for when his night shift would soon begin. The reinforced suit was expertly designed to support his physical attacks with an extra spring of power without hindering his natural agility. It protected the wearer within its polymer composite armor guards and flexible kevlar-protium mesh. Best of all, it was detachable and lightweight enough to fit and be carried discreetly via suitcase.

_Sorry, Melvin. But the old man really outdid himself._

The new tactical Daredevil suit allowed him to remain strong, durable, and fast. Perhaps he should have worn it to traverse his way to the department instead, for by the time he arrived, their doors were closed for the evening.

"Dammit."

He set the valise down to rest his hand on his hips, thinking of what to do next. The wind chill kicked in, meaning it was already dark out. Office workers were long gone as well, further proving how much later it was than he had realized. All he heard within the building was the spinning wheels of rickety cleaning carts and the sluggish janitors pushing them. Then something out of place appeared on his auditory radar.

"What in the?" Matthew's head twitched at the sound of metal clicking within the elevators.

He tucked away his walking stick and took his case to rush over to the side alley, away from passing civilians. Now perched on the neighboring rooftop, he caught an unmistakable whiff of gunpowder encased in lead.

"Sub-machine guns. Nine millimeter."

The Devil found it strange to find armed guards at an unemployment house, while simultaneously being glad he had brought his change of clothes.

"Hurry up, man. Before they see us."

The youngest of the pair patrolling the cubicles worried shakily.

"Relax. The night crew knows not to come up while we're here." The older gunman entered the room where all the background profiles were kept.

"The janitors know about this?"

"I'm sure not about _this_ specifically, but they know to stay away and shut the hell up if they see anything. That's the unspoken power our Big Man has." He said as he flipped through the folders in the yanked open cabinets.

"Well shit, that's pretty co-"

"What was that?"

Oddly he did not respond, yet the mobster was too focused on his tedious task to even offer a glance.

"Hey kid, how about you come help me dig through these. Gotta pull the names of the delivery tonight, and the truck'll be here any minute."

Still nothing else was heard from his companion out in the hallway.

"Kid?" Voice raised impatiently. "You don't need to be on lookout the whole time. Ain't nobody else coming in."

"Sure about that?"

The gruff, older voice was definitely not his partner.

"The FU-"

Daredevil snatched him by the throat and slammed him onto the reception desk. The fully automatic dropped to the carpet in the midst of the surprise assault.

"I keep hearing word of this _Big Man_. I'd love to learn more about him."

"N-not a chance." He fought to breathe and to break free.

"Not really in the mood for rejection tonight."

One solid strike to the abdomen made him much more willing to comply.

"I don't know! Never met him. He's just some new fat cat the Maggia work for."

The lucky vigilante had unintentionally busted a Maggia operation. This night was already gleaming with more promise compared to the one before.

"You must know more of him."

"Not really, no."

A firm thumb was pressed deep into the gap above the enforcer's collar bone.

"I'm serious!" He screamed out in pain. "I'm just part of the delivery crew. Our orders don't come from him--not personally."

"Then who?"

"Colleagues, man! No one that would be important to you. We just get the texts of where to hit up next and which warehouse to deliver 'em to."

"So there's warehouses."

"Shit."

"And what is it that you deliver exactly?"

"Shipments."

It was unwise for the man to play coy with the Devil at his throat.

"Of what!?" He demanded as he flung him across the space.

"Nobodies!" The thug sat up and crawled aback in a panic as the hunter of the night approached him from the shadows. "Bitches that won't be missed. Homeless! Unemployed! Hell, some of 'em were deadbeats before the Blip. Another team recruits them. They volunteer willingly. We deliver. That's all they need me to know."

Though in a frightened state, his heartbeat did not waver to deceit.

"And the volunteers all end up disappearing. No missing persons reports, because no one cares. Yet you still pull their files. Erase any physical trace that they were ever here."

"And 'IT'," He continued with air quotes, "comes in the next morning for a routine check."

"When really they're wiping the hard drives."

"Bingo."

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen had uncovered an intricate scheme of human trafficking, but the _why_ was missing. The purpose behind it all. Whoever this Big Man was, he was outsourcing the Maggia for grunt work to keep clean of hands-on involvement. If he was among the mob's ranks, they would know more of him. Instead they were kept in the dark. But someone--some Maggia boss on the higher chain of command had to be dealing business with him directly. As for the use of the homeless, another way to avert suspicion. Especially now in the aftermath of everyone's return. A wide pandemic of street dwellers desperate for opportunity to normalcy swept the nation. A few to slip through the cracks of a distraught society, scrambling to rebuild itself, would easily go unnoticed. Hence why Murdock was following this mystery more attentively than the, already spread thin, NYPD. But what they were being used for remained the troublesome question. One which Daredevil fully intended to uncover the answer to, no matter where it led.

"You mentioned a truck arriving soon."

"What? Not to you." Terrifyingly confused, he wondered how the horned predator could have overhead. For how long could he have been closely stalking them?

"Where's it heading?"

"I-I can't. They'll take my fingers."

"I'll get the process started."

"Wh-wha-AGH!" The mobster squealed under the violent pressure of his first two fingers being twisted in a manner the lord never intended. "Okay, no no, please. I'll tell you."

"No need."

Murdock heard the cargo truck reverse into the secluded loading dock down below. He knocked out the informative goon with a brutal knee to the forehead. Haste was crucial, for with the vehicle's arrival came a foul stench of unbathed bodies congregating around it. The shipment.

"Alright people, thank you all for coming on such short notice." A middle aged man in a collared shirt and puffy vest had exited the passenger's side to open the back. "We apologize for having you come out here, but you're each staying at separate hotels. It's out of the way. Hope you understand. One trip was just more practical."

The handful of volunteers huddled around him, eager to go. With his professional demeanor, the last suspicion they had was for him to be involved with the mob.

The driver remained in his seat, keeping the engine running. While the gatherer waited for the scouts to return from the labor building, he pulled out a clipboard from the rear to buy more time.

"Alright let's do a quick headcount-"

A purposefully loud thud made impact with the roof of the semitrailer, demanding its arrival be known. A burst of reactionary screams followed at the sight of a looming figure in red carrying twin batons. The Maggia member recognized the appearance all too well, cursing as he dropped the clipboard to reach for his concealed weapon. He was too slow. Daredevil front flipped off the 18 wheeler, crushing the man onto the concrete with his hefty boots for a smoothed landing.

"Leave." He ordered the poor group.

"B-but they promised us a better life." A fearful woman spoke up.

"And all they'll grant you is death."

"They paid for our food and hotels." Another frail man stepped forth.

"Yeah? In exchange for what?"

"Well… they didn't tell us ye-"

"Exactly. When a deal's too good to be true, it usually is." Cynical words of truth spoken from an experienced lawyer.

"But-"

"**Go!**" He now bashed the base of his club onto the trailer, scaring them off like rats.

"What the hell's going on back there?" The driver removed his earbuds to stick his head out the window, seeing the scurrying cargo. "Hey! Where are you going?"

He faced forward again to retrieve the keys, before going after them. But something from his peripheral view stopped him, and stopped him with a near heart attack. The stealthy ninja had made himself comfortable in the passenger's seat without ever even triggering a sound.

"Stay on schedule. Get to the drop off point where you were to deliver those people." The tri-blades of the tilt of his baton slashed out. At the press of a bottom that sharp edged top propelled forth, whizzing by the driver's nose, obliterating his side-view mirror before swiftly returning. "Or _that_ will be done again, straight through your temple."

His chauffeur gulped with terrible anxiety as he shifted the gears to carry on with the delivery, according to schedule.

* * *

Deathly alarms blared across the labs, shrouding the facility in a foreboding carmine. All floor-level personnel shoved into one another in the unexpected evacuation.

"Containment breach!" A panicked voice stressed over the speakers. "Test subject 017 is out! I repeat! Test subject 017 is-GAHK"

Silence washed over the fleeing crowd as they overheard the crunching of bone and oozing insides. After the muffled weeping of pain from the announcer ceased, ragged breathing approached. What followed was a demented voice, slow and hoarse as if her throat was filled with iron nails.

"_**Monsterssss**_,"

The evacuation initiated by the security sirens seemed like a leisurely park stroll compared to the abrupt chaos that now sparked out across every wing of the building.

"I saw her! I saw her!" A young scientist dashed to the front of the rushing group. "Oh god. The research team. Sh-she-"

Bursting through the terrazzo flooring was Lucia, eyes flaring of emerald through the few remaining patches of her long, raven-hair. The majority of her nude, stitched together body, replaced with razor-like machinery. Her twisted hunched forth stance, conveyed nothing but anger and hatred.

"Please… w-we're sorry."

Their pleas only summoned her elongated claws, already drenched in the remains of past sorrowful beggars. At the shot of a screeching wail, she swiped at the defenseless crowd, painting the white walls in blood.

In an upper level of the facility, two men stood in a wide conference room. Captured through the office windows was the nearby river docks. The surface of its waters reflected the twinkling amber lights of New York.

"You've had a breach? I go through the trouble of providing one of my few remaining fronts for your operation, and you suffer an internal _**breach**_? How could this happen?"

The incarcerated Kingpin of Crime hid naught his immense displeasure at this unfortunate event. He communicated to them via live video call from the comfort of his luxurious prison cell.

"Minor setback, I assure you." The entrepreneur of Project Renaissance calmly explained to his associate displayed on the large mounted screen as if it were of no concern. "Perhaps it was her abnormal genealogy. The very factor we took as a breakthrough, surviving the extremity of the experiment, but rejecting the biotech."

"So it was a failure?" He asked with a discontented sigh.

"Not entirely. Like I said, 017 survived. Something that has never been the case until now. With her genome as a jumping off point, we immediately began trials on one of the males. For him, we switched to something we're more experienced with here at this company. Some good old fashioned modified animal DNA." He finished with a dashing smirk.

"As opposed to the late doctor's unstable," Fisk made sure he was pronouncing the correct term. "_Bio-organic-technology_?"

"Precisely. Though he's still in the incubation period, so time will tell."

"You still plan on being able to conduct your observations if the girl levels the entire facility." He chastised.

"In the event that the worst _does_ come to pass." His partner stood his ground with reserved composure. "That is what these blood samples are for." He lifted the protective briefcase to exhibit. "Men like us need to be several steps ahead."

"A man such as myself would have ensured the test subject be more securely sedated."

"Enough, Wilson." The case slammed onto the table for emphasis. "I understand your frustrations, but cut back on the passive aggressive temper. The situation will be resolved, and we will still relocate to one of our more _secure_ laboratories to resume testing."

Fisk's intense silence was enough to strike immediate fear and regret, for daring to respond in such a tone, into the worst of criminals. But not the case regarding the man that stood before him.

"Just remember the importance of Project Renaissance, Mister O-"

"_**I**_ am well aware." He declared buttoning his fine blazer. "Our success here is as vital to me as it is to you, because you understand just as well as I…" The tall businessman spoke with grave sentiment. "That family is everything."

"...I shall await your next update."

That was all the Kingpin said before ending the conference call, cutting the feed to black.

"I ain't never heard someone stand up to Fisk like that." The beefy head of security beside him at last spoke.

"Yes. Well, I suppose that's why you all call me the Big Man." He stated, adjusting his striped tie while looking onto his reflection on the blank screen. "Ready my helicopter." The order was briskly given into his earpiece. "Be kind and accompany me to the pad, Mister Martello."

"Sure," The Maggia Crime Lord walked alongside him on their way out.

After collecting their coats from the racks, they stopped by the security room to check the multi-grid footage. Lucky pockets of personnel were pouring out onto the parking lot and other exits.

"I'll send you an encrypted list of all my employees assigned to this location. Home addresses and all. Have the Maggia visit everyone who managed to escape. Deliver my most sincerest apologies for this atrocity, and convince them to return to work. Or else… Well, let's just say I can't have any whistleblowers." He ordered decisively.

"Will do, Big Man. And the broad?" Martello asked as he watched her slaughtering rampage through the corridors.

"Containment was a no go. So now we must dispose of her like all the rest." He answered without a single shred of remorse let alone distress.

The two leaders of their respected factions progressed to the private elevator.

"Termination…? Gonna be tough now, seeing as she's a livin'-"

"Weapon, Mister Martello? Yes, she's no more than a living weapon. No use to me now." He ensured everything needed was in his coat pockets. "Shouldn't be a problem for your men though, correct?"

"My boys will handle it." Joseph Martello promised his employer with his shark-like grin.

Down at the quarantined labs, his _boys_ were already on the job.

"Don't let her outside!"

A squad opened fire. The deadly escapee covered herself with the more mechanical half of her form. The piercing NATO rounds kept her at bay, even began to force 017 to cower back.

"Someone get the grenades!"

"We have _grenades_!?"

"In the damn duffel, Julio! Hurry it up!"

The adrenaline-driven henchman dropped to the bag behind their feet. Before he could retrieve the explosives, a glowing hue of pale green called his attention. It called everyone's attention.

The light emanated from the visible power core on the target's chest. The exposed tubes connected to it began to pulsate as well. It burned like steam onto her flesh, and she could feel it growing stronger. Lucia wailed out. The lit tubes trailed down her arm, still emanating through her stretched skin. She could feel it all. The agony. Something was shifting inside her; The living metal where her bones used to be.

"What the shit did they put in her!?" One goon lowered his gun in overwhelmed disgusted.

The rest reloaded posthaste in order to continue firing. Though it would be to no avail, for her middle claws retracted to make way for something else. The light pulsated stronger and stronger as if escalating within. Until at last, what looked to be mini canons took shape, releasing all that pent up energy. The Maggia screamed away into the blinding flash of pale green.

_What…_

Lucia looked onto her hand as it transformed back into claws. The unbearable burning had settled.

_What was that? A defense mechanism?_

She laid her glinting eyes onto the blockade. All were no more, disintegrated to mere ash.

_What on earth did they do to me?_

Poor Lucia struggled to find the balance for control over her new body. It seemed as though she carried two subconciences now: Her humane desire to find her friends and escape this horrible place. But then there was the indescribable purpose. A violent id. It was as though her work here was not yet finished. The voices in her head further complicated her bearings.

_Preemptive… Future… Order…_

On her advancement, the automatic doors beside her swooshed open.

_Nation… All…_

The glimpse of the neon blue data room lured her in before she could even make the decision. Her arm reached out to the hard drive stations as if drawn to the intelligence they possessed. Lucia's claws retracted once again with a wince of pain. This time metallic wires slithered out, plugging into the ports. Suddenly, she twitched at the slight electrical surge. Rows of binary code scrolled down her emerald eyes.

Her technical engineering background, from her startup days, allowed her the ability to decipher some of the overwhelming amount of information. Most of it was terabytes of scientific equations backed by mathematical algorithms; A series of wild, in depth theories across all branches of science and robotics, ranging from herpetology to immunology to artificial intelligence. All revolutionary and fascinating, yet was white noise to Lucia. It was all downloading at such high-speed that she only managed to pluck fragments; fragments of a somewhat comprehensible timeline.

"_**Human and health development… lost formula of Project Rebirth… military funded biotech research… cybernetic trials… problematic, unethical… Octavius separation… alternate augmentations… animal splicing… 2016 legal settlement… government shutdown due to global 2018 incident… 2023 reattempt, off record… Project Renaissance… commencement of human trials.**_"

The wires unplugged from the computer jacks with an electrical jolt, and seeped back into her flesh. Lucia's eyes widened with whatever humanity still remained at the one piece of personally important intel. She had downloaded the layout of the entire, thirteen level facility. Thus, she had just discovered where they were keeping her friends.

Nearby, she ripped open a locked security door with incredible strength. What awaited her on the other side, she never could have imagined.

_Whelan?_ She read the label to herself in disbelief.

Test subject 017 was not the only monster they had created that night. Caged within a glass box, was a man of umber-fur, stripped of his clothing. Only the shreds of his olive slacks remained. Curled up at the far corner, he faced away, covering his ears due to the tireless alarm. It appeared the 'incubation period' was no longer in effect. Lucia used her claws to cut through the reinforced barrier.

_My friend…_ She entered, reaching her hand out carefully. _What did they do to you?_

The traumatized creature that was once Edward Whelan slashed at her with a rabid growl. Flinching aback, she caught a clear reflection of herself off his beady black eyes. _No wonder why he was so afraid_.

Denying her the time to react, he pounced around, fleeing the cage and scratching his way into the air vents above. Just as quickly as she had found him, he was lost once again.

"_Duchess_?"

An old, familiar voice called to her from the other side of the holding cells.

_Harold?_

Though her movements were intimidatingly slow, internally she rejoiced over the sight of her dearest friend throughout this entire ordeal.

The elderly man could not help but step back as her horrifying new form approached his holding chamber. She witnessed his fear with stoic lament. It was understandable. She freed him all the same.

He took a long look at her. Lucia stood taller now. Tears of grief took shape over his freckled cheeks. Though trembling, his hand worked up the courage to gently set onto the human half of her face. Wrinkled skin was stretched thin and blood clotted yet still very much Lucia.

"Least they kept your good side." He uttered wholesomely.

His tortured friend blissfully closed her eyes as she leaned her face into his comforting palm.

"I'm so sorry, Lucia." Harold cried as he admitted apologetically. "We should've listened to you."

When the victim's eyes reopened, a single tear grazed down her human side and onto his tender hand.

Their reunion was then interrupted with a sudden explosion, caving in the floor beneath them. They plummeted to the generator basement below.

"Down here!"

It was more Maggia. They were not trying to escape like all the other staff. They were after Lucia.

_Why?_ One of the few emotions she was able to cling onto was that of unbridled hate. _Turning me into this… Is this not what you people wanted!?_

Her new cybernetic form began to assert control once more, preparing countermeasures.

_Oh no…_

The burning sensation had returned.

"The boss wants her gone!"

The dust settled enough for her to see them directly over them on the floor above.

"Now! While she's down!"

Firepower rained down upon the poor friends. Lucia grimaced as she shielded Harold from the bullets. The scorching sensation was more intense than before. Which she hypothesized, with absolute certainty, could only mean a far greater release was nigh.

"_**Harold**_."

He flinched at the vile voice. Though time was short, so she shoved him behind cover and pointed to the back exit. She knew it would lead him straight to the parking garage outside.

"_**GO!**_" The gruesomely distorted woman shrieked out.

Her dear friend ran away in terror as she absorbed all the bullets. She could hear the reactor in her chest whirring as it overheated. The next sound was that of a ticking beep as it descended toward her. A grenade.

The explosion blew her into one of the live generators. Lashes of electricity whipped around Lucia as she screeched with anguish. Thankfully Harold made it out, for this time the metal casing of her rib cage snapped open to join the transformed canons on both her arms. The following eruption of her pale green energy fused with the power core of the facility, causing a destructive chain-reaction that blasted straight through to the very rooftop.

High in the night sky, the Big Man and the Maggia Don rode in the helicopter when they were suddenly struck with major turbulence.

"WHAT THE-"

They looked over to bear witness as the helipad they had just departed from ruptured open in an explosive display of blinding light. A light that would surely draw the attention of the entire city, and with it, the press.

The pilot regained control and continued leaving the devastation of failure behind them.

"Well, if that don't kill her, I don't know what will." Martello sat back to enjoy a cigarette.

His boss snatched it from his clunky hands and flicked it out the side. "Don't smoke that cancer in my chopper." He then groaned irritably at the fiery wake. "PR's going to be a nightmare."

* * *

"Don't forget, Peter." Karen reminded the Web Slinger as he made his way through the low buildings of Queens.

"Right, yeah. Not hostile yet assertive. I'll swing in like, 'Hey, what's up, Daredevil. I'm Spider-Man. I'm an Avenger. You can't talk to me like that.' And then convince him that two super heads are better than one."

"I'll… be present to assist you." She said, knowing he would surely be in need of it.

The acrobatic Spider landed gracefully onto the moving J train in transit to lower Manhattan.

"Thanks, Karen." He said genuinely as he hitched the ride to conserve webbing. "Any sign of him yet?"

"Searching… nothing on police channels, nor social media. I recommend we venture into his usual area of operation, starting with Devil's Shelf."

"Sounds like a plan."

The plan was about to change as the enormous flash of pale green light encompassed the sky beside him.

"What the hell is that!?" The boy flinched at the sound of the not so distant boom.

"An explosion! Five point three miles out. North East. Energy signatures are off the charts!"

"That's right by the docks."

Determined by its sheer size, he worried people could have gotten hurt or worse. The young hero spun onto the roof of the incoming parallel train, heading back into his home borough.

"Sorry, Satan. You'll just have to wait."

* * *

"Holy Shit…" The driver uttered in shock as he turned the corner, witnessing the crumbling establishment.

Murdock felt it as well. The sizzling heat. The trapped screams. The entire building seemed to be caving in on itself. The result of something shooting clean through the center of all the levels. He had wondered what the sudden eruption was that he heard two blocks ago. _A gas leak? Generator malfunction? Something worse?_

"What were they doing here?"

"I don't know, man! We just bring the bums here. I don't know what they do with 'em! Oh god." He succumbed to a state of panic. "My cousin. Did my cousin make it out!?"

As his hands struggled with the door, the Devil denied his exit by knocking him unconscious. Leaving the vehicle, he approached the burning base from the front parking lot. A few people were still rushing out, some carried firearms. _More Maggia?_ All were scared for their lives. His presence seemed to go unnoticed in the bedlam, until he clutched a hold of a passing woman by the arm.

"What happened here?"

She screamed with fear. "Who are you-"

"Answer the question." He demanded, needing to know what he was about to march into.

"I-I can't. This wasn't supposed to happen. We-we were never supposed to be doing this."

"Doing what? What were you doing with the volunteers? Was there a girl? Early twenties. Lucia. Lucia Von Bardas."

"Oh god!" She screamed again, desperately trying to pull away from his grasp.

The name alone spiked her heart rate. She knew Lucia. She knew what happened to her.

"She was already one of _you_. I'm so sorry. Please, I-"

"Hey, Horny!"

Matthew was too preoccupied with the collapsing building and the roaring fire and the bitter taste of ash and the dispersing footsteps and the frantic breathing and the overall havoc that he failed to detect the nuisance soaring above.

"What are you standing around for? Burning building! _Hello_? We gotta jump in!"

The frightened woman used the moment of distraction to break free.

_Dammit! Again with this idiot kid._

"Wait!"

But she had already climbed into her colleague's ride. Rubber burnt against the pavement as they fled the scene, as did nearly everyone else.

With no other choice, Daredevil rushed towards the decaying structure. He hoped to still find Lucia, but instead what appeared on his radar was something beyond haunting. Something wailing like nothing he had ever heard before. Something that could not possibly be human.

Already inside, Spider-Man lifted a fallen pillar to reveal two coughing workers in torn lab coats.

"Hey, guys. I'm gonna need you to head over to that window and fast."

They did so carefully as wild flames swiped at them.

"Now to set it back in place, or else the ceiling will fall on us." He succeeded in his delicate task, applying a layer of webbing for additional support.

"Do me a favor. If they ask you what happened on the news, tell them your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man saved you. Oh and fold your arms."

"What?" One wheezed in confusion.

Parker stuck two miniature gadgets onto their backs before tossing them out the open window. They inflated into large gunks of web that safely cushioned their fall.

"Well done." Karen congratulated. "Plotting the safest course to reach the remaining life signals."

"Let's get them all out." Peter said with unfaltering determination.

His advanced mask filtered out all the suffocating smoke, allowing him to maneuver through the blaze and rubble with swift precision.

"Wait."

"What is it?" He landed on the railing of a broken down stairwell surrounded by fire.

"I'm picking up a new signature."

The new marker blinked onto the scanned three dimensional layout of the environment on his heads-up display.

"Below us?"

"This is peculiar. The power source seems to be growing."

"_Power source_?" He sought immediate clarification. "Is it a person or is it a _thing_?"

Despite buzzing the moment he dived in, his sixth sense now yelled at him to move.

"Look out!" His A.I. also provided warning.

A horrible shriek echoed as a blast of light completely eradicated the surface Peter was positioned on. He collapsed through the burning floorboard, but adhered to the ceilingless wall to steady himself.

"That looked like the same explosion we saw."

"Same energy as well."

"_**Holyyy…**_"

That same awful voice now slurred nefariously. It was dangerously close.

"Okay… what was that?" The unknown began to spook the boy.

The strange signature on his mini-map dashed all around his position. It was fast, perhaps faster than him. With mere plain sight, all he could make out was a dark silhouette vanish into the blazing foliage of the inferno and dense smoke. The Arachnid was being hunted. His natural defense called forth his attention once more.

"Behind you!"

The wall he was planted on burst into various chunks, bringing the young Spider face to face with his mysterious foe.

"_**Conquest!**_" So screamed the nightmarish visage of scorched flesh, receded gums, and blood stained metal before a pair of lifeless eyes.

Out in the lot, Daredevil heard the shouting boy fall from the fourth story, landing harshly right beside him.

"I told you to stay away."

"Really?" Peter groaned from the asphalt. "That's the first thing you say to me?"

Murdock stayed precision-focused on the bizarre entity inside, leaving the boy to pick himself up to his feet.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry about me. I'll help myself up." He remarked sarcastically, dusting himself off. "Thanks anyway."

Through the fire and flames emerged the escaped test subject, the living weapon fueled by tormented rage.

"What the hell is that?"

The Devil was stunned. All he sensed was the stench of iron and burnt flesh, and the sound ragged breath due to weakened organs, struggling overtime to compete with shifting machinery in constant motion. They tore and scraped against her. It pained him just to visualize this monstrosity.

"Something that will make you glad you're blind."

017 extended her lethal claws. Her lean, twisted form cracked forward. Her beaming eyes of emerald glared furiously with hate. Any remnant of Lucia had now burnt away in that fallen facility. All that remained was her wrathful purpose. The profound id of which she wailed out so horrendously.

"_**DOOM!**_"


	7. Good Spider, Bad Devil

The sheer force of her screech reverberated through their very bones. Peter clung his fingertips to the asphalt like the human spider he was. Meanwhile, Daredevil instinctively raised his fists up to block as he was pushed back. With their foe’s coming, too came down the entirety of the wall she burst from. Accompanying hunks of rubble collapsing as she lunged at them. The building would not last much longer.

“Any ideas for tackling this robo-zombie?”

“Shut up and stay out of the way!” Murdock answered the pest as he flipped over fallen debris. Wild lines of fire spread across the whole lot.

“Okay, you won’t be much help.” The ferocious monster slammed her claws, just narrowly missing his chest. “Karen. Tell me what we’re looking at.”

“Dangerous energy fluctuations. Soon to reach critical.”

“Needed a computer to tell you that?” Matthew interjected from high on an exposed beam. “She’s burning alive from the inside.” Another scream, another blast of light that melted clean through the support metal. The amount of pure energy needed to accomplish this. _ Plasma? _ He hypothesized while rolling safely onto the ground like an expert stuntman. Though the being did not seem too interested in him. Instead it concentrated its attacks on the boy.

“That’s not all.” The valuable Intelligence added, processing the information as it presented itself. “I am also detecting a wireless signal. Artificial. Emanating strongly.”

“An advanced A.I. like you?” The Devil dashed through the flames to dropkick the creature of machinery and scorched flesh away from the Arachnid, away from the building.

“Partially.”

Peter hopped and slid around this angry anomaly lashing madly at him. “So we’re not dealing with a Terminator?” He drew from his vintage film knowledge for his trademark levity.

“Bizarre… though the cybernetics are consuming her physical form, that is not what is reaching out to me. It’s too primitive, too… emotional.”

“What are you saying?” Parker tried to understand, somersaulting onto a parked vehicle for safe distance. His webbing, useless as it merely dissolved within moments of impact due to the test subject’s rising heat. Another thing to improve on; reformulate his mixture to be odorless, and now more resistant to extreme temperatures.

“Whatever was installed into her was solely prosthetic. Her wavelength, her actions, are all her own.”

“But she’s clearly not in her right mind.” The boy was taken aback as the heavy automobile lifted right beneath his feet and was used as a sledgehammer on him.

“No and yet she’s-” Fortunately the youngest Avenger was just as strong. Knee and foot firmly to the pavement, he stopped the vehicle from crushing him with both hands. Unfortunately, that momentary pause of strain, of facing one another eye-to-eye, was all the deranged woman needed. Through the cast shadow, he caught the deathly gaze of beaming emerald beads. “She’s scanning!” Karen voiced with terrible distress.

“For what?” He groaned with struggle and concern for his partner.

“ME!”

He had never heard her be so afraid.

The wrecked car suddenly dropped as she swiftly scooped Peter into the air with her jagged metallic hand. Though equal in strength, that was not the case in speed. Both the boy and his companion let out a sharp agonizing scream as an electrical surge enwrapped them both. While stunned, the nanite wires slithered forth from her forearm, puncturing into the high tech suit to insert themselves in the available micro ports. Her deadly talons gripped tight around his torso as she began downloading all her id desired. That is why the unknown creature was so fixated on him. She was after Karen, and the vast library of knowledge she stored.

During this excruciating physical connection, the access of data rushed both ways. Karen was intaking just as much as she was. "Lucia, stop!"

_ Lucia? _ It took painstaking effort to focus in this situation. Not only did Matthew have to track an opponent he did not fully understand, one absurdly fast and radiating like a nuclear reactor, but he had the fire still clouding his delicate senses: the toxic fumes infecting his lungs; the taste of limestone and ash tarnishing his tongue. Yet, through it all, he honed in on that name like a precise dart.

The young Spider painfully tried the wriggle free. But the immense energy was burning away at his soles as he frantically stomped on her bladed form. Already the urethane strapping along his boots caught aflame. “Let me go!” He cried out. Karen was unable to assist him for she too was in a painful struggle, only on the virtual plane. Any safety measure his suit possessed, inactive. The electrocution cracking at his muscles, the high temperature pressing onto his skin like a hot iron, Peter experienced it all. His salvation only arrived at the hands of the Devil.

From the fallen wreckage, he had lifted a car door. With it, the fearless vigilante bashed into the preoccupied machine, bringing her down to the pavement. Her mechanical clutch broke off, freeing the young one. She wailed on collision, shattering the window. It pierced his sensitive ears, yes, but he forced the large door in place all the same, trapping her beneath with the aid of his bodyweight. “How did you know that name?” He shot out to the A.I..

Her recuperating voice sounded chopped and on the fritz, like tired static on an old television. “When she made contact, pervasive contact.” She added with disgust. “In that brief moment our consciousness was hardwired. Linked.”

“Owe… my head,” Peter slowly turned over on the ground, hand massaging the back of his neck. He then began to pat down the flames dancing on his shins upon noticing them.

“We were… _ painfully _ acquainted with one another.” Karen said with a sigh as if recovering from a headache.

“So they turned her into this?” Razor spikes erected out from under the door, nearly stabbing Murdock. He applied even more pressure to keep her subdued. The Spider also applied some webbing to paste her in place, though it would only dissolve soon with her ever escalating energy signature.

“Subject seventeen of eighteen attempted human trials. Registered volunteer, Lucia Von Bardes, age twenty-one, for an off-record clinical project.”

“What could they possibly be testing to end up with this!?” The high schooler questioned.

“Our time was short. Therefore I was unable to retrieve much. Thankfully neither did she. But from what little I gathered, these confidential experiments are…” Her volume faded low.

“Karen?”

“Forgive me... I must... perform a hard reboot.” She completely fleeted out from his ear.

“Perfect.” Murdock groaned at the inconvenience. He then felt the heavy aluminum between him and Lucia begin to melt away with her growing frustration. “Lucia, you need to calm down.” He urged. “I’m trying to help.”

Parker hastily pumped more webbing along the open sides, but it was yet again futile. She burned straight through.

Matthew was practically broiling inside his leather as he sensed her power core humming loudly. “But I can’t do that if you keep-” He had to abort. The tactical ninja eased his hold to slide his feet onto the door, knees-to-chest. When the blast of energy erupted, it sent the last of the charred scrap into the air. In solid form, the daredevil then backflipped off of the strip of metal, landing on a collapsed pillar.

The impressed teenager was ever reminded of those ‘sweet moves’ as his girlfriend so adequately put.

“Dammit! Listen to me!”

She charged right at him, forcing him to dive clear.

“Not very good with people, is he?” He quipped as he zipped in close in case his strength was needed. “Oh, right. You’re sleeping. Man, talking to myself sucks.” With Karen temporarily inactive, Lucia was no longer aggressively after him. “Least I know Dee Dee can hear me.”

The stench of burnt flesh and metal was dangerously close. One hit from her and he would be dead. “I’m-” The son of a boxer bobbed and weaved from her fatal claws. “I’m a friend of Maggie’s!” She stopped mid-slash, centimeters from his neck. _ It worked _. He hardly believed it, and yet there was no time to dwell. He had to persist while such an opportunity was available. “That’s right.” He caught his breath, opening his palms to show he was no threat. “Sister Maggie. She sent me to find you.”

The boy kept a cautionary distance, not wanting to interfere. Her body language changed into someone completely different. No longer was she the raging killing machine from before. Now she seemed more docile, more human. He continued to pay close attention, for hopefully this connection the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was making would allow them to help her without harm.

“I can take you to her. A safe place away from all this. Her and I, we know good nurses and doctors . We can help you. Figure out what happened, what they did to you.” He felt the heat dwindle from her core. Her heart rate settled. _ Jesus, her vital organs are somehow still intact_. So many questions, the blind man had regarding the subject looming over him. Yet she was calm, and that is what mattered to him most at this moment. All was going well.

Her attentive gaze lingered. Lucia was no longer plagued by the voices of her subconscious. She only heard the man in red trying to save her from this confusing torment. She only saw him lift a helping hand before her.

“If you let me.”

** _Let me…_ ** Suddenly the voices returned. ** _LET ME_**. With them rushed forth a buried memory. One from which she did not even recall as her own.

“We need more agents in America, your excellency.”

Lucia was now small as two mysterious figures, hazy from a time long hidden, towered before her. Men. Prominent ones she vaguely felt, but their exact identities escaped her. Their visage masked in colored shades of sage and juniper.

The following’s voice echoed with dominant regality. “She’s but a little girl, admiral. I need strong candidates. This is no mere child's play like what the Russians are dabbling in with their Red Room. Even if she awakens from the insertion, there’s no guarantee she’ll survive the voyage.”

“And if I do, _ my lord _ .” The voice of a little girl spoke out of turn. Accent so heavy, she barely recognized it as herself. Yet it was. The little patriotic girl speaking up to her commanders was Lucia. “This _ riveting _ back and forth will end up being even more needless and tiresome than it is now.” They stood silent as she pleaded. “ _ Let me _… let me undergo the procedure. Let me serve my country.”

** _Let me._ **

The emerald eyes sparked with rejuvenated fury. Her dormant subconscious triggered forth once more.

“Shit.” Matthew narrowly managed to dodge Lucia’s sudden lash of an attack. _ I tried, mom_.

Peter pounced onto her back, pulling the mechanical animal away from his temporary ally. The corroded blades of her twisted form dug into him. “Owe, owe, sharp. Very sharp.” She spun about violently to shake off the Spider, but, with his adhesive ability, that would not happen unless he wanted it to. “Give you a D for effort, man. Which is more effort than you gave me our first outing, by the way.” He did not need heightened senses to feel Daredevil’s silent irritation. “No hard feelings though. After all, I’m a Leo-”

“There’s still people trapped in the west wing, and the girder is about to give out.”

Subject 017’s arm shifted into a cannon of sorts, overheating to inevitably fire. “Telling me to beat it. Noted.” He ensnared the weapon in his web and yanked it off target to shoot straight into the ground. The immediate combustion knocked her off balance, and the boy used this to his advantage. Finally flipping off while maintaining hold of the web line to throw her into a pile of burning rubble in one flawless swoop.

Daredevil was not the only one with ‘sweet moves’.

“Sure you’ll be alright without me?”

“A woman’s suffocating. On the verge of passing out.”

“Going!” He swung over to the far side of the building.

The people pounded on the wide stretch of glass in a desperate attempt to escape the cornering fire. They were then startled by the sudden arrival of the Wall Crawler. He waved hello and gestured for them to step back as he carefully broke through.

"Not to worry, everyone…" Chest out and fists to his hips, he put on the most masculine voice he could muster. "For **_I_** _am_ **_here_**!"

They all stared at him in confused silence.

"No? Not a single one of you watch anime?" Their harsh coughs urged him to accept defeat and hurry them out of the caving inferno. Using a firm web like a bungee cord, he carried them all safely down, two at a time. “Off you get. Thank you for riding the one-way Spidey express.”

The Devil unsheathed his twin batons, prepping for the second round of battle. Already he heard the animalistic growl brew beneath the shifting rubble. Upon her outburst of frenzied rage, smoldering stones fired in all directions. With his reflexes always on guard, some debris only scraped his armor, others pulverized to dust as he swiftly deflected them.

He had to be quick on his feet, and smart with his actions. His opponent was no longer human. She was taller, stronger, faster, and far more ferocious. The seasoned fighter used his environment to his advantage, leading her into fire, crashing her into concrete slabs. None of which tired her, merely bought him a few more precious seconds of breathing room. This was unlike anything Murdock had ever faced before, and he was struggling. Though his pride would never admit it, the boy’s superhuman abilities would have been far better suited here, and greatly appreciated. Yet Daredevil managed to land solid strikes throughout the fast paced violence. One bashed against her metal skull with his reinforced club, only to realize that she no longer felt pain.

She snatched him within her lethal talons, slamming him into fiery rubble. He grimaced as the tightened blades sliced through the cordura sections of his suit. And she was not yet finished. Spinning an impressive distance across the lot littered with destruction, he was now pressed against the roof of a truck. Its sheets of metal creaked worse than nails on a chalkboard as he was dented deeper in by her grasp. Quickly he brought up his billy clubs in an ‘X’ to block her other hand of bloodthirsty claws. He knew he was never going to win this fight with his fists alone. No, instead the boxer was holding out, surviving round after round of cruelty. Not for the Spider’s return, but for the right opening. One that his senses surmised would effectively incapacitate her.

The mechanical hand began to overheat again. There was his opening. As it transformed before his very helm, he performed a quick sleight of hand. The steel line of his billy club was released, and looped around the formed cannon and over her head. As the unstable energy whirred louder and louder to blow, he tugged down on the line as hard as he could. Yanking the cannon away from his face and directly into her locked shoulder, the blast completely obliterated her arm. She let out a horrid yelp. Now it was the Devil whose work was not yet finished.

The force of the close boom knocked her back, and tipped over the truck. To which Murdock flipped onto stable footing on top the moving vehicle and launched himself forth, tackling the test subject to the ground. Immediately he stomped the cannon away as it combusted once more, and began driving the base of his baton into her exposed reactor core. He bashed with brutal force again and again, not caring for her screams, until it began to cause an unexpected reaction. Flying sparks grazed his kevlar.

“Whoa! You actually made it. Gotta say, I’m shoc-”

“Keep your distance!” He warned, feeling what was soon to explode.

“Dude, I’m congratulating y-OAH!”

Daredevil rolled off in time before a massive beam from her rib cage shot out, cutting the web the Arachnid was swinging from. He tumbled onto all fours in a dynamically poised stance.

News Astars entered the skies, covering the tail end of this heated altercation. The energy fluctuations were more frequent than ever before. Karen had informed them that the test subject would eventually reach a critical point. Murdock had hoped to immobilize her before then, but there was no stopping it. The power that dwelt within Lucia was far more unpredictable than either he or any of them knew, than even the scientists who worked on her could fathom.

"Lucia?" Though the series of explosions before him caused his sixth sense to incessantly buzz, Peter still managed to empathize. Her overwhelming cries hitting his young, sympathetic nature. So much so that his guard was lowered for an open attack.

Matthew propelled the grappling hook of his multipurpose baton, catching the barrel of the cannon about to decimate the boy, and yanked the blast off target. Its beam swooshed across the smog choked night, nearly singeing the helicopters.

"We have to move!"

Every surviving soul from the base had been evacuated and fled to safety. The news coverage retreated higher in the sky. Thankfully, this was a factory district and it was well after working hours, so no wandering bystanders were in the area. Left behind on the scorched battlefield were only the enhanced individuals.

The city locals of red and black each traversed across the ruins, abandoning the poor foreigner to her inevitable demise. She further erupted into a rapid series of blasts. Each escalating energy spike burst from every possible orifice. Any remaining patch of flesh had now shriveled away to embers, revealing a gaunt exoskeleton. One that would put the Terminator from Peter's old movie to shame. Her outcry of rage and agony shrieked out for blocks without end. It scattered rubble, shattered windows, and spread flames thin. In her final moments, pain was indeed felt, pain and _ failure_. All accumulated into one gigantic explosion of light for all New York to witness.

Its far reaching shockwave smacked Daredevil into a parked vehicle, and knocked the Web Slinger out of the air, hurling him into a neighboring warehouse. The encompassing sphere of sapphire with wisps of emerald devoured not only the large parking lot but the entire test site. It illuminated the night before the boy’s awestruck eyes.

“Why is it always blue?” He asked himself, recalling all the other catastrophic incidents within his superhuman community. After shaking off the last of the shattered glass, he leapt out of the blown opening of the top floor.

The light had faded, the energy dispersed, and the dust settled. Swinging back to the scene, he saw his reluctant new partner sluggishly return as well. The man was still walking off his hard impact. His ears definitely bleeding within his helmet from the sonic blasts.

“She’s gone.” He uttered as the young one landed beside him. There was no longer a pulsing heat signature, no humming, no stench of blackened flesh, no heartbeat. “Completely disintegrated.”

They stood in the aftermath of their grueling fight. In a massive crater that had cut clean through the cement like silk were the facility once stood. Sewer pipes were severed, spraying water and foul liquids across the scene. Pockets of flame still sprinkled here and there, though nowhere near as outrageous as before.

“That’s horrible.” Peter wished he could have done more.

Meanwhile, the nocturnal defender was more concerned with scanning the demolished surroundings for clues. Tonight was the closest he had gotten to any trace of an answer. An answer to the strange bodies all over the city that he now concluded to have been other failed experiments. With his current state, weary of battle and bearing fresh cuts and bruises, he barely survived one encounter with the demented, malfunction of a test subject. If a truly successful product was to be created, he would not stand the slightest chance. He had to stop the Maggia, but any evidence had burnt away with the destruction of the site. Against his liking, the only remaining lead rested with the boy. His artificial intelligence carried potential answers. The vigilante would have to keep this Peter Parker close until she returned online. In the meanwhile, another trail to this mystery was about to unravel.

Sirens belonging to the New York departments of police and fire approached the blast zone. The Spider got more jumpy than usual.

“Oh no, I have to leave.”

Murdock then picked up on something from the corner of the farthest block. “Wait.”

“Dude, you know New York isn’t too happy with me right now. If they catch me-”

He shushed him, zeroing in on the indistinct whispers.

“Pigs’ coming.”

“Yeah, nothing left to see here. Let’s report back to the boss.”

_ The accents. _ ** _Maggia_**. The night had appeared to still be young and full of promise.

“How fast can you go?” He darted to the boy.

“What? Well, gee I don’t know. Never thought to really time myself. But if I were to guess, I’d say-”

_ He rambles too damn much._ “That car. Don’t lose them.” He ordered, pointing to the Chrysler driving off.

“Alright. Roger that.” Off he went. Sure, Parker had questions, but the Devil had proven to be highly perceptive, always seemed to know what he was doing. Besides, any excuse to flee the crime scene was welcomed.

* * *

The young hero caught up to the vehicle with ease, trailing from above to avoid being seen. "Did he, like, want me to just keep following 'em, or pull the car over?" The thugs merged onto a busier lane. "I mean, how's he supposed to even catch up with me?"

Several blocks behind, an unsuspecting cab driver dropped off a nightly worker. Receiving his above-modest fare, he paid no attention to the toy figure running along the rooftops in his side view mirror. The gentleman took a moment to refuel on his doppio espresso. As he steered back to cruise the rest of this borough, a heavy thud slammed onto the roof of his vehicle. The hot coffee spilt over his lap and dashboard, but that was nowhere near the worst of it. A blunt instrument had penetrated straight through the roof. “The hell!” Tri-blades slashed out from its stem to hook itself in place, nearly poking out his widened eye.

“Drive!” Ordered a gruff voice that dared naught be questioned.

“Who you think you are, man!?” The angry New Yorker bravely shot his head out the window to catch a clear glimpse. His tone immediately changed upon the unmistakable sight. “God, it’s _ you _…”

Hitching a ride was the fully armored vigilante hailing from across the East River. A man that feared no evil. A man who would rather overfill the emergency rooms with broken criminals than to send them straight to their jail cells. A man who for the past five years had built a ruthless and merciless reputation across the streets of this city. A Devil whose reflective eyes of fiery crimson glared back at the frightened soul.

“...** _now_**.” He emphasized without needing to raise his voice again.

“O-okay, yes. Yes, my friend.”

The taxi drove off to wherever the new passenger so desired.

“And this would be the part where you remind me,” Parker began impersonating the meek, articulate voice of his dormant companion, “Peter, you forget he is able to track the chemical makeup of your web fluid, and do so anywhere in the city. He’ll find you. Not to worry.” Continuing his pursuit down the auto shops and various supply stores of Dutch Kills, the Web Spinner was quickly running out of tall buildings. “Man, this lonesome swinging sucks. How’d I ever do this without you, Karen?”

Turning onto Vernon Boulevard, one of the Maggia spotted the low swinging Spider in their rear view. “Shit, Bug’s on our tail!”

“What?” His buddy looked over to confirm. “Aw, come on!”

The Chrysler accelerated before him. “And they spotted me.” He picked up the pace as well. “Seems this is now a hot pursuit.” The passenger window rolled all the way down for the henchmen to sit steadily on the ledge. His ‘Peter tingle’ alerted him of the bullets that whizzed by his head. “**Hot**. Very hot!” Letting go of his line, he dove straight for the car, landing prone on its roof by his tips of all fours. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to pull over!”

The man yelled obscenities at the boy in scorched tights as he fired the rest of his round. None hit for the target was far too agile, even at such a close range.

“I tried asking nicely.” He snatched the handgun with ease, “Yoink!” and tossed it aside.

The mad driver zigzagged through traffic, trying to shake off the pest. A futile attempt. Before the Spider could grab the passenger, shots now pierced through the roof, nearly making contact.

“Thanks.” His grateful comrade returned to his seat. 

“Gotchu.” He unloaded a few more shots before a web line yanked the firearm from the side, smacking his partner across the face on its trajectory out the open window.

“What are we shooting at, dude? The _ stars_?” He ridiculed. _ Shotgun’s dazed. Now I just have to take care of the crazy driver and fast. _

“Dammit!” But in a panicked mode, he completely veered the car into a speeding semi-truck to the Spider’s side, attempting to crush him.

“No, no, no!” Parker raised his legs to prevent collision. The eighteen wheeler honked angrily at them. “Sorry!” Running his feet along its cargo trailer, he kicked himself over the hood of the Chrysler. Now on the driver’s side, he punched his fist through the glass, nabbing hold of the steering wheel, “I’m revoking your license.” And pulled the vehicle off the two-way lane, but did so too hastily.

They hit a bump in the road, and, at their speed, it caused the car to flip wildly across the air. Peter almost lost his grip but managed to pull himself onboard, quickly maneuvering toward the front so that when it landed… “Gotcha!” It landed right smack in his open arms. The Maggia flopped comically onto the windshield due to the abrupt stop in motion.

Peter, with his proportional spider strength, held the car up vertically by hugging its front grill. He had successfully prevented any collateral damage to the loading docks of what seemed to be the Ravenswood generating station.

"You boys look uncomfortable. How about I put you down?" He let the vehicle drop flat on its nose. Gravity vomited the pair through the cracked shield, twinkles of shattered glass all over the pavement. He then lightly pushed the leaning vehicle with one hand so it would fall over on its side.

This Human Spider had just displayed a spectacular amount of power and control, and did so effortlessly. With no plausible option to fight, the Maggia simply tried to crawl away from him.

"Cute." He wrapped them up with ease and dragged them to a secluded area, away from the eyes of passing traffic.

“Alrightie, guys.” He stuck them onto the side of an outpost on a large cargo ship parked at the same docks. Roosevelt Island and the further coast of Lenox Hill served as their backdrop. None would disturb them out here by the water, not at this hour.

None except the Devil armored in blood-red and darkness who had silently boarded the boat. His senses would have tracked them anywhere. The two squirmed in their confined webbing as they saw him approach steadfast behind the oblivious boy.

“Uh, is my interrogation mode on?” Peter wondered what had them so on edge.

“Three questions.”

“Jesus, dude.” The sudden voice by his ear even startled him. “How about a heads up next time, partner?”

“We’re not partners.” Murdock whispered to him firmly. “Now are you going to back off this time?” His tone sounded off more as a threat than a question.

The teenager threw his hands up with zero resistance. “Hey, do your thing.”

Their first encounter, Peter did ruin his quest for answers, be it unintentionally so. Thus, his meddling resulted in another dumped corpse. Even now, they were too late to save this Lucia. ‘_Test subject seventeen of eighteen attempted human trials_’ as Karen had mentioned. Perhaps others were lost to the fire before their arrival. Perhaps some had escaped, and were running loose with unchecked power. Perhaps that facility was not the only one of its kind. Definitive answers were needed, and though the young one did not agree with this man’s methods, he decided to hop onto the nearby shipping container to let him continue his 'good work' all the same. The actions done to that poor woman were of pure cruelty and indisputably inhumane. The Maggia needed to be stopped.

The infamous Daredevil stopped before the anxious pair. They were neatly encased in thick layers of webbing from ankles to shoulders, and glued securely to the surfaces to be seated side by side. He crouched comfortably to be at face level. “Three questions,” he reiterated for them. The only courtesy he would give, “and I’m only going to ask each of them once. So I’d advise you both to listen carefully and-”

“Tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help you god!” Peter’s outburst instantly stunted the tension in the air. Though he agreed to hang back, he still wanted to contribute. At the expense of the vigilante’s irascibility, which the boy was secretly beginning to find pleasure in.

Matthew took a moment to retain his composure. “Because tonight, after nearly being _eviscerated_, got to say I'm honestly not in the mood. So…” He sensed their fear. “Why? Why the experiments? What is it that you were trying to accomplish in there?”

“Us?”

“We ain’t trying to do shit. We were just there to do a job and get paid.”

“I’d clench my jaw if I were you.” The boy advised.

“What?” The thug unwisely looked over at the relaxed Spider. A solid punch across the cheekbone forced his attention back to the Devil.

“He ain’t lying!”

“He’s not telling the full truth either. I know all the Maggia do is grunt work. I came across one of your delivery boys earlier. The ones you work closely with. The ones who were in charge at that facility. Why are _ they _ doing this? By association, you must know something.”

“You’re assuming too much. We was just put at the place for security detail. That’s it! Muscle in case shit got outta hand.”

“Lot of good that ‘muscle’ did.” Parker scoffed with air quotations.

“Hey, you fought that crazy broad. Even you two couldn’t handle her. She wasn’t like the others. She was…”

“She was something else.”

“Yeah.”

They recalled horribly, barely making it out of that slaughterhouse alive.

“Point is we don’t know why they’re making those things.”

“Those _ things _ were people.” The young do-gooder reminded them.

“People who volunteered, kid.”

“As if they had much else in the form of alternatives.” Murdock chimed.

“True, these days are back to shit. Tough for all them average city folk.” He looked to the Spider. “All thanks to you and your _ super friends_.”

“_Us_, what did we do?” He immediately sprouted defensively.

“Relax, we ain’t complaining.”

“Yeah, every time you heroes nearly break the world, we profit.”

“Trash New York? Top gangs have free real estate to invest, and alien resources to loot.”

“Let half the population go kaput? Suddenly the shambled government and what few big time Avengers are left become too busy worrying about what's out there, they forget about the rest of us down here. Total anarchy those first few years. And the only real sense of authority in that wild west, was under organized crime. Maggia came back stronger than ever.” He looked over to the Devil with scorn. “Even if we constantly had to deal with you.”

“Then you overpopulate our streets five years too late? Shit, the damage is down. Now there’s just thousands of new mouths to feed. Hundreds of new bodies aching for work. Unemployment is a shit show, so they either turn to crime or sign up for these experiments of god knows what. Hell, we’ve been keeping to peace more than the cops.”

Peter hung his head with a heavy weight of guilt. Since their assembly, the Avengers' actions have always laid way to unforeseen ramifications. Matthew did not share his sentiment. Quite the opposite. He resented them for those very actions.

“Enough.” Murdock clamped his grip around one’s throat. They were becoming too full of themselves. “Second question. The Maggia didn’t suddenly take up interest in clinically advanced sciences. You’re not smart enough to orchestrate these experiments.” The workers at the facility were definitely not Maggia. That much was clear to him. This was a partnership of sorts, but he needed to uncover who was the brains behind such an unprecedented operation. “So who hired you to run security? Who hired the Maggia?”

“The Big Man? We don’t know him!” The informant answered desperately as his friend gasped for air. They cared for one another a great deal.

A weakness Murdock had no plight exploiting. “I’ll crush his larynx.” He squeezed tighter.

“Honest! We don’t answer to his nerds, and we’re not supposed to ask questions. Part of the secrecy and shit, in case _ you _ come knocking.”

“Someone gives you the orders.”

“Our own!”

The boy wanted to step in, believing this was going too far. “Dude, maybe-” The Maggia’s face was flushed a cold blue, his eyes popping with splotches of red.

But Daredevil persisted. “**_Who?_**”

“Hammerhead!” The man cried out.

He released his hold. “Hammerhead?”

“He’s the king shark of the Maggia.”

The Arachnid drew a sigh of relief. Then felt the need to further mitigate the tension, more so for his own comfort. “If he’s the king shark, shouldn’t he be called, I don’t know, Great White?”

“If you saw him, you’d understand why he’s Hammerhead.” The grunt that nearly had his life choked out of him exhaled as he regained his breath.

“I don’t want silly nicknames. I want his actual-”

“Martello.”

“What are you doing!?” His friend tried to silence him, fearing Hammerhead's retaliation if he were to discover they had snitched.

“I’m tired of this shit, man." But the tired henchmen He had heard plenty of horror stories from his own hospitalized cousins. A prolonged interrogation with the Devil before them would not bode well for their health. "His name’s Joe. Joseph Martello.”

“So the bastard son found a way to take up the family mantle.” The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stood. He knew of this Martello when he was younger. A powerful hitman for the Maggia. Though he never deemed him much of a long term threat given his shaky family history. Descended from a long line of mob bosses, but Joseph’s father involved himself with the wrong woman. The daughter of a rival family. He was quickly usurped by his own brother. Harboring a soft spot for little Martello, the uncle kept him alive as a trusted attack dog. The ultimate example of mob loyalty. Word spread that his first contract was to eliminate his very own mother. Truly desperate times for the Maggia to look to Hammerhead for leadership. “That brings me to the third and final question. You were off to report to your boss. Where?”

“You can’t.” His dear friend uselessly tried yet again.

“He can and he will.” Blades hooked out of his billy club.

“I’d go ahead and answer him.” Parker offered counsel once more, hoping to avoid the torture. “As you can see from his cool suit. He’s a hardcore fan of red. Especially the bloody kind.”

“It’s a bar. A neat joint we all use to organize, for some R and R when needed, or, in this case, a hideout when shit hits the fan.”

“I said the location. Don't need a glowing review.”

“You’ll find it down Mulberry. It ain’t too far from Columbus Park.”

"Chinatown." The Devil uttered as he sheathed his weapon back, readying to leave.

“Hold on, I'd actually like an idea of what I'm looking for." The boy removed himself from the side of his steel container. "Does this bar have a name?”

“No, kid.” He chuckled at him. “It does not. Part of its special appeal."

Murdock motioned for his attention.

“He wasn’t exactly specific.” Peter whispered away from the captured duo. “How are we supposed to find their secret clubhouse?”

“_I _ will find it. That’s not the concern here.”

“So then we’re going? Right now?”

“Has Karen rebooted yet?”

“No. Still dark. Lucia really did a number on her.”

The experienced vigilante began to walk away, leaving the boat. The eager boy followed.

“Then the only other person with answers is Martello at this bar with no name.”

“Gotcha, yeah. Cool. Very cool.” He could not help but feel the subtle vibes of excitement for his first New York City team-up.

“HEY!” The thugs called out. “You just going to leave us here?”

“Oh right.” He turned back to them, patting his empty pockets. “My bad, guys! My usual calling cards got burned in the fire. Can you just, just tell the police your friendly neighborhood Spidey and not so friendly Daredevil apprehended you! Yeah?” He shot them an innocent thumbs up as they cursed his name. “Awesome. Appreciate it!”

Peter Parker now looked onto the bright skyline. “So…” He rested his hands on his hips as he asked his new partner. “Should we order a pool or you comfortable with a piggy back ride there?” But at a turn to his side, he was nowhere to be found. “Uh, _ Dee Dee _?” The boy scanned the edge of the boat and the rest of the docks. Nothing but contaminated waters and neatly displayed stacks of neutral colored shipping containers.

Daredevil had kept going, vanishing without a sound nor trace, while Parker had wasted his time with the criminals and the view.

“All levels of **rude**.”


End file.
